


Winning Happily Ever After

by lightningprince



Series: Happily Ever After [2]
Category: Wicked - All Media Types, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningprince/pseuds/lightningprince
Summary: SEQUEL TO FIGHTING FOR HAPPILY EVER AFTER: Tensions rise between Munchkinland and Oz. At the same time, a pair of assassination attempts force Glinda and Elphaba back together. Now the two witches must discover and eliminate what has caused Oz to be engulfed in chaos for generations, all while trying to stay alive and solve their own issues. RESUMED! Posting Every Other Monday
Relationships: Elphaba Thropp/Fiyero Tigelaar, Elphaba Thropp/Galinda Upland, Glinda the Good/Wicked Witch of the West
Series: Happily Ever After [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692532
Comments: 77
Kudos: 60





	1. Once More Into the Breach

Glinda stood on her balcony overlooking the gardens. Off in the distance she could just catch the reflection of Restwater. Glinda knew that to her left the Emerald City would be glowing in the burgeoning light. She paid it no mind.

It had been three months since Glinda abdicated her position as Throne Minister. The new Throne Minister (and former General of the Home Guard) was named Sheltergod; a strange name for someone, but apparently his father had been deeply religious. So far his actions had been good for Oz. He had cleaned up the Administration, continued discussions with Munchkinland, and even reinstated funding for Glinda's schools. In addition, he demolished buildings damaged in the chaos of the last reign and rebuilt them on Oz' purse. The Emerald City citizens had grown to him.

Glinda was not so fortunate. Though the more common people remembered her generosity, some Emerald City citizens harbored dislike for her affiliation with Elphaba. Others resented her heavy handed use of magic during the last days of her Ministry, when she had quelled the riots. Combined with their new hero in the Throne Minister, Glinda's standing had fallen. She was not worried, though, as the Animals of the City still supported her. It would rise with time.

Glinda sighed again. Another issue that neither she nor the two heads of state could solve was the dilemma of Restwater. After the Munchkinlanders had pulled back to the other side, the now Throne Minister (as General) had fortified the near Emerald City side. A standoff began over the crucial water supply. The Hall of Approval did not want to give up access to the City's water supply and forced the Throne Minister to stay. The old nobility of Munchkinland could not bear the idea of losing what had been traditionally theirs, forcing Boq to dig in. Tension had risen until another war looked imminent.

It was then Glinda stepped in. She had been looking for an excuse to leave the City, feeling claustrophobic. Familiar with the newly renovated Mockbeggar Hall, she had purchased it from its rapidly ailing owner. Strangely enough, the estate came with the Baronetcy of Paltos. As such, Glinda the Good was now the official Baronetess of Paltos. Though this title had not actually granted access to the Hall of Approval, Glinda's property and enterprises had qualified her. She now had the right to sit in the Hall as a first tier baron; an unheard of feat for a woman.

When the states heard that Glinda had taken residency in Mockbeggar, both had tried to convince her to abdicate. Glinda had politely refused, and all but dared them to conduct their war over her home. Both states knew to do so would be political suicide, and so settled into a tense staring contest. Glinda had welcomed the use of the Mockbeggar estate as neutral ground, and officers routinely used it to deliver and receive messages.

Today she was heading into the City. Though she wished to cut ties with the place, Glinda understood she still had to maintain a presence; though for what reason she did not know. Her plan was to tour those schools and apartments she still supported, and call upon some of the local nobility still amicable to her. From there she would take the train to Shiz. School had been in session for a couple of weeks now, and Glinda wanted to check on her Adepts.

There was a knock at the door. Glinda turned.

"Come in." she called across the room. A tall figure clad in white opened the door.

The woman was a mystery to Glinda. One of her new handmaidens, the tall woman was shrouded in white from head to toe. Even her face was hidden, revealing only the slightest amount of pale skin and green eyes. When Glinda asked Mr. Jonkel (her steward) about it, he explained that the young woman had a traumatic past, and no longer spoke. Her veils were the best she could do to detach from the world. They did not know her name, but she responded to the name they gave her. Illiana.

"Is it time to get ready, Illiana?" Glinda asked. The shrouded woman nodded, causing Glinda to sigh. She came in off the balcony and shucked her robe. By that time, Illiana had begun to lay out the dress for her.

A more subdued dress than in the past (to go along with Glinda's more subdued social life), it was a light blue with white accents. The bodice still cinched her in, but the shape had changed to a more conical form, and the waist elevated. Under the dress she wore a bustle pad to accentuate her hips and rear (something Glinda inwardly crinkled her nose at). Afterward, layers of underskirt were worn and pinned up. Her make-up was much lighter with only just a bit of blush, some rouge for her lips, and a touch of shadow. Finally, her hair was pulled back into a conservative bun and topped with a wide brimmed hat that was pinned in place.

"Alright, Illiana, I'm ready to go. Please inform Jonkel." Glinda said. The woman bowed her head demurely and walked out of the room. Glinda sighed again but soon followed.

* * *

Elphaba looked out at the peaks of the Great Kells from the grand windows in Kiamo Ko's Throne Room. She pulled her shawl close. With summer fading, the old castle had begun to grow colder. Daylight was starting to remove the bite, but it was still there, especially this high. Elphaba sighed and thought of Glinda.

At first they kept in contact. Elphaba knew of her moving to Mockbeggar, and some of the happenings in the City. However, after the first month, the letters began to get less frequent. Two weeks ago they had stopped entirely. Elphaba knew her dear friend was still well (as Chistery had at least one Flying Monkey keeping an eye on her) but also knew she should make the time to visit. There was still much unresolved business between them. Elphaba did not admit it, but her fear of resolving those issues is what kept her away.

"Fae?" came a gentle voice. Elphaba turned to see Fiyero (clad traditionally in only breeches) watching her intently. "What's up?"

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Nothing that can't wait." She replied. "The Scrow, Zyma, and Garamana representatives are going to be here today, correct?"

"Yes." Fiyero replied, running a hand through his long braided hair. "The Yunamata Nation has stepped up their harassments of them. Along with the other raids, it is becoming a real problem. Father is hoping to get a coalition together to cow the Yunamata into stopping."

"Power politics never changes." Elphaba said. Fiyero smiled sadly.

"No, it doesn't. But shall we stop brooding on this and get breakfast?" he asked. Elphaba nodded. The two came together, and started the slow walk towards the dining hall. Elphaba noticed one of the doors to a balcony open and frowned. She did not remember it being that way. She opened her mouth to ask Fiyero when a repugnant smell hit her.

"Yero, watch out!" Elphaba yelled.

Dart shaped shadows flew towards them. Fiyero dodged to the left but Elphaba stood her ground. She banished the darts and threw a blast of air where she knew the assailant would appear. The dark robed figure had barely landed when the blast hit them, and they stumbled. Elphaba pressed her advantage, smashing the figure off balance with two more before crushing it to the floor with a downdraft. As it rose to its knees, Elphaba conjured ice and froze it in place. She crossed the distance in a heartbeat.

"Who are you?" she demanded. The person did not answer. In her rage, Elphaba tore away the hood and cover that hid the face. It was a man of olive skin distinctive of the western edge of Ev. Elphaba's sight, though, told her something was off. "I asked: who are you?"

The man did not respond, merely trying to weave a spell. Elphaba tore them apart before he could even begin. Eventually, the man desisted. He glared up at Elphaba. Now, Elphaba could see a creeping darkness both magically and physically across his skin. It looked as if it was beginning to crack. Diving deeper into her sight, Elphaba saw a spell woven into his very life force begin to take effect. Elphaba did not know who would do such a thing.

"You are dying! Tell me who sent you, and I will stop it." Elphaba urged. Finally, the man answered her. Not with words at first, but a rasping laugh.

"Stop her? Unlikely. This Oz is hers. You witches will burn." He gasped out, and started laughing again.

His laugh slowly turned into groans and then cries of pain as black heat began to seep out from the cracks. Elphaba took a step back moments before the man burst into shadow flames, his death cries echoing off stone walls. As the last vestiges of the man disappeared, Elphaba waved her hand. The shadow flames blew away, leaving nothing left. She turned back to Fiyero, who was now flanked by both his Sworn Guards and her own Witch Guard.

Elphaba's brow furrowed, and she absentmindedly brushed off Fiyero's concerns. Something was nagging at her brain. Running through the fight in her head, everything seemed fine. When she got to the end, however, her conscious and unconscious mind finally met. Her eyes widened and she brushed by Fiyero and her guards.

"Fae, what is it? He asked, following her.

"He said witches!" was her only reply as she sprinted towards the west wing of the castle. Fiyero swore, and lengthened his stride to keep up with her.

* * *

Glinda floated through the City streets. The buildings around her were worn, and the cobblestones had tuffs of grass peaking through. All that, though, paled in comparison to the underlying stench of squalor. As usual when Glinda visited the poorer areas of the City, the lower classes clung to her.

Her retinue of footmen (under their Staff Captain) kept the mob from rushing the revered woman. Her footmen let a small trickle of people through, who were then met by one of her handmaidens. They ordered in some semblance of order to meet her. This let everyone have a personal moment without anyone monopolizing it. Often a citizen would go away with a coin for their troubles. Glinda's renowned largesse was also a reason for the crowd.

Glinda had not been happy about the arrangement at first, but Jonkel had insisted. He stated that it had worked well for his previous households as it allowed intimacy but safety. Glinda, her mind on greater matters now, had acquiesced. Anytime someone had gotten out of line, the harsh bark of the Staff Captain (named Ronce) settled them. That, or the business end of the wooden staff he carried. As she moved through the lower parts of the City, she was thankful as it had made travel easier and allowed her carriage to follow closely.

As she was shaking the hand of a little girl, a harsh bark of warning caught Glinda's attention. Expecting to see some destitute cowed, Glinda turned to rebuke the Staff Captain. Instead she saw a large man with something in his hand sprinting towards her. Everything slowed. Glinda tried to summon her magic but knew it would be too late. As the man brushed past one of her handmaidens, Glinda's brain deciphered the image. A side sword. It was then Glinda feared not for her life, but another's.

A white ghost stepped in front of the man, obscuring Glinda's vision. There was the harsh grate of metal on metal and he was thrown back. A gleam of light cut across Glinda's sight and the man clutched his throat with a gurgle. It did nothing to stop the spurt of blood from escaping. Cascading over her white protector, Glinda thought it was the perfect analogy for lost innocence.

The world sped back up and Glinda heard a scream. The crowd had begun to flee. The girl at Glinda's side clung to her, and she could see her mother screaming. As more men assailed her retinue, Glinda shooed the girl to her mother. The woman sobbed in gratitude but Glinda paid her no mind. The smell of blood and din of fighting flashed her back to all those months ago, and her body itched with adrenaline, as if urging her to wade into it.

Another man came for her white clad handmaiden and Glinda began to summon her air spell. Her handmaiden beat Glinda's action, parrying the incoming sword with her newly acquired one and smashing a fist across the man's jaw. The extra solid thump gave Glinda reason to believe that she was hiding something metallic under her clothes.

Glinda scanned the area as she reinforced her spell. She blasted two thugs ganging up on one of her handmaidens, and followed it with a succession of air blasts that sent the rest tumbling away. As they regained their feet they saw a number of short, stubby rifles pointed at them and thought better of it. Discretion seemed to be the better part of their valor.

Staff Captain Ronce came to her, eyes still scanning the area. He had lowered his short rifle (a kind Glinda had not seen before) but still held it ready.

"Are you ok, My Lady?" he asked gruffly. His bearing, though not undisciplined before, now had the hardness of a career soldier. Glinda's suspicion grew.

"Yes, thanks to my handmaiden here. Though seeing as all my footmen and maidens somehow magicked up arms," Glinda said, motioning to her retinue, "I'm guessing she isn't a typical maid."

"Quite right." Replied Ronce with a wry smile.

"Are any of you injured?"

"Not significantly. We wear padded jacks under our coats, My Lady; not stuffed shirts like the Emerald City pretty boys. We remember where we came from."

"And where might that be?"

"A history lesson for another time. We need to get you to your flat as soon as possible."

"My flat?"

"Yes. Mockbeggar is too far and we don't want you hurt."

"On that we quite agree. Come, Illiana."

"Well, I guess I don't need this anymore." Illiana said. Glinda thought the voice was familiar. "Good thing too; that blood is starting to suffocate me."

Glinda's white veiled handmaiden removed her headclothes, revealing stark red hair and a familiar face. Glinda stared.

"You see something you like?" the woman asked with a sly grin.

"Wynnessa." Glinda breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? And none of this Wynnessa business; I get that enough from Duran and Robiere."

"Less talk, more hustle, Wynne." Ronce snapped. Wynne rolled her eyes but ushered Glinda towards the carriage. As they entered, she heard Ronce bark out. "Alright, Dogs, let's move!"

* * *

"Spill it, Wynnessa." Glinda said as the carriage lurched forward. "What are you doing here and who are they?"

"They, Miss Glinda," Wynne replied, green eyes sparkling with excitement, "are the Dogs of War."

"And just what does that mean?"

"Remember when I told you about Duran's favorite phrase? 'Cry, Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war'? Well, apparently he liked it so much he named his own people after it."

"They're all like you? His agents?" Glinda asked in disbelief. Wynne shook her head slightly.

"Not exactly. I told you Duran isn't as poor as he seems. Well, even I didn't know how much he had. These retainers are part of his household. Some are like me, those he picked up; but some are multigenerational."

"He has to be a Baron of some repute to have so many clients. What is his family?" Glinda inquired but Wynne shook her head again.

"Even they don't know. They simply know it as the House of Duran. Most speculate that this incarnation of Duran is just another male heir who has been glamored to look the same as the previous."

"How could no one notice?"

"Well, the Household does not congregate all in the same place. It appears there's no set estate; only disparate companies and facilities that they draw revenue and recruits from. The Dogs themselves, which are referred to formally as the Arms Militant of the House of Duran, hardly ever fight together. Most are like me; swords for hire. Some of the staff are also contracted for hire to houses or companies in need of their services."

"Like Jonkel and the rest of my staff." Glinda said, eyes narrowing. Wynne nodded.

"Yes, just like that. Clients love having a package deal on services." Wynne laughed.

"So how did you not know about this?"

"I wasn't told. All those of the Household have to be of proven loyalty. I hadn't done something for him yet. He visited me while I was recuperating, and told where to be. The rest of the Dogs clued me in after. The only exceptions are those who are born in the Household; they are sworn to it first by their parents, but later given the choice multiple times. Like I was, they are educated and given a choice on what they want to be."

"How has he kept it hidden?"

"Who has bothered looking?" Wynne retorted. "It's not like he has a castle and army hidden away somewhere; he has different groups of people who rent their services out. Even the Household themselves don't know how many there are."

"Well, that explains _some_ things" Glinda huffed. Wynne nodded her head.

"Exactly what I thought."

* * *

Glinda followed Wynne out of the carriage after they crossed the threshold into her flat. She was surprised to see Jonkel as she exited, who offered her a hand. She took the assistance, giving him a hard look. His hard face remained impassive.

"It is good to see you are unharmed, My Lady." He said.

"Well, it is good the Dogs were there to see me through it, Jonkel." Glinda replied gratefully. Neither Wynne nor Jonkel missed the reproach in her tone, but the rest of her retinue did. They began to smile shyly.

"It is their duty, My Lady." Jonkel replied evenly.

"So I heard. I am surprised to see you here, Jonkel, and with so much staff. I thought my flat was being run with only a skeleton staff." Glinda inquired.

"It was, My Lady. However, I thought it best some of us be around just in case you needed us." He replied.

"And if I hadn't? Would I have returned to a half empty house?" Glinda continued, but Jonkel shook his head.

"No. We would have set out in front of you, and the rest of the staff remaining at Mockbeggar would have prepared the house for your arrival."

"I see. That's very organized of you."

"It is my duty as the Steward of your House." He replied with a bow. Glinda noticed the Dogs unpacking her carriage.

"Am I to stay here tonight, Jonkel?" she asked with just a hint of anger in her voice.

"I feel it best, My Lady. The open road is too much of a hazard without a proper escort. We will have it done tomorrow if you wish to continue your plans of going to Shiz."

"I see. Well, then, I will need to sup and bathe. Can you see to it?"

"Of course, My Lady."

"And send Wynnessa up. Just because I know it is her now does not mean she will get out of her duties. But make sure she takes a bath, and presents herself accordingly to my retinue. She'll know what I mean."

"Of course, My Lady. I'll see to it at once."

Glinda nodded, and moved off to her room.

* * *

It was strange for her to be back in her room. She had forgotten exactly how the place she had spent most of her adult life felt. It appeared just as she had left it, except for her boudoir. The family heirloom had traveled to Mockbeggar with her. Glinda could almost feel the presence of Elphaba and Fiyero. She squeezed the object in her hand tighter, and ran a hand over her stomach.

"Miss Glinda?" came Wynne's voice. The woman turned to see Wynne standing there in a footman's coat and with her sword (though she was wearing the boots Glinda made for her all those months ago).

"Yes, Wynnessa?"

"You sent for me?"

"Yes. I need to bathe and change before I have supper."

"I had hoped that since the charade was over you would use one of your other maids." Wynne sighed.

"Consider it your punishment. I will be lenient on the outfit, if only because it looks good on you, but," Glinda said, and snapped her fingers. Wynne's hair curled and face colored. "I'll do no such thing about your appearance. Come now, we have work to do."

Wynne sighed but entered.

* * *

Glinda clutched the stone to her chest. Her day had continued in excitement. During her bath, Jonkel had informed her of a caller. After dressing appropriately, she had met the man (an old acquaintance of hers from the City). He had called to check on her as the news of her attack had spread. She had assured him of her health, and sent him on his way. The stream of well-wishers had not ceased since then.

Around dinner, two much unexpected guests had come calling: Avaric, Margreave of Tenmeadows, and the Throne Minister himself, Shell. Jonkel and the rest of the staff were on edge with the number of guards each brought with them. Glinda could not be so rude to send them out the door like the others, so they had dined.

After the initial rounds of small talk, the conversation turned towards politics. The new Throne Minister sheepishly asked Glinda on how to get the Hall to approve a new law to grant a small stipend to disabled soldiers. Glinda (thinking the cause worthy) told him who to talk to and wrote a letter for Avaric to read in the Hall announcing her support. It was far from closing the deal, but all thought it would be a great help.

After she had seen both men out, Glinda retired to her room. She was happy neither had seen how she had worried with the stone during dinner. It would have been an undying shame. Even now, as Wynne helped her dress down to her robe, she held it close. By the time Wynne had bid her goodnight, Glinda was desperate. Walking to the glass doors leading to her balcony, she looked at the moon and wondered what Elphaba was doing right now. Shaking her head, she turned away from the sight and went to her bed.

A noise behind her made Glinda jump. She turned, words coming unbidden to her mouth. The sight of the man nudging in the door calmed her but then confusion rose.

"Jonkel, what are you doing?" Glinda asked as the man scanned the room. As he slowly moved in, Glinda saw one of those short, stubby rifles in his arms. Her heart fluttered as she noticed Wynne come in behind him, sword drawn. "I asked: what are you doing?"

"The Dogs caught sight of someone moving in the flat grounds. They couldn't find them, but we thought it best to come here." He replied, not looking at Glinda. He moved left to check one of her empty rooms while Wynne moved towards Glinda.

"There is no one here." Glinda replied. "Are you sure there was someone? It's not just nerves, or some exotic bird?"

"Oh no, My Lady," came a voice from around the room, "your guards are well trained."

Glinda whipped her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the man. All she saw was the glint and ring of steel. Wynne stepped back, disarmed. The woman drew her dagger, but a cold blade near Glinda stopped both of them. Glinda noticed a couple of more of the staff come into the room, each with their own weapons. Glinda breathed lightly.

"Who are you?" asked Glinda faintly. She could hear the amusement in the reply.

"Ask me no questions and I'll spell you no lies." Came the voice gently. Glinda's mind reeled back to a dark night in the City.

"Duran?" she asked and was met with a hearty chuckle.

The blade disappeared and Glinda felt the man move from behind her. The lamplight finally caught him, shedding the shadows. Under the brim of the hat was the familiar smile, and over the loose tunic was the garish purple scarf.

"You called?" he asked. Glinda glanced at the Dogs, who were staring a bit. None had lowered their weapons. Glinda motioned for them do so.

"I did. What took you so long?" Glinda inquired almost petulantly. One of Duran's eyebrows arched.

"I was stuck babysitting in the Vinkus. Notice the tan." He replied jovially. Glinda did notice his skin as darker. She also noticed something else.

"What happened to your eye?" Glinda asked, worried. The light had caught his face and illuminated a long, vertical scar over his right eye and onto his cheek. Duran's smile didn't fade.

"Does it make me look dashing? A mere graze of a sword, don't worry; my eyesight is still perfect."

"You, cut?"

"Crowd fighting forty soldiers is difficult, even for me." He replied jovially. None knew if he was serious about the number. That worried them in and of itself.

"Damn it, Duran!" Wynne yelled, causing Glinda to jump. "You couldn't have just walked in the front gate?"

"Now where's the fun in that?" he laughed. Wynne rolled her eyes.

"We could have killed you, Duran." Jonkel replied seriously. Duran turned his smile on him.

"Could have. Considering the Dogs barely saw me, and Wynne obviously couldn't stop me," he continued and Wynne huffed, "the risk was manageable.

"Still, next time I would prefer you to announce yourself." Jonkel answered. Duran rolled his eyes.

"Dashing swordsmen don't announce themselves. Well, they do, but not when a more dramatic entrance is available."

This time Jonkel sighed, but finally unshouldered his weapon.

"I'll leave the lady in your care." He said and motioned for the rest to leave. The staff nodded to Duran, and he nodded back. Wynne picked up her (now Glinda noticed) shorter sword.

"If you hadn't had range…" Wynne started.

"No excuses, Wynnessa. Go, we'll have time later for practice." Duran cut her off. She nodded, and left. Finally, Duran sheathed his sword and turned back to Glinda. "Now, what is it you needed me for? It felt pretty serious, but not dangerous."

"I…you see…" Glinda stuttered, but stopped. Duran's eyebrow arched again.

"Yes? You usually are more eloquent than this." Duran noticed, his tone carrying the barest hint of worry.

"Yes, well…" Glinda said, but could not figure out to continue. Finally just deciding to go for it, she lurched forward and connected her lips with his.

Glinda clung to him desperately, trying to drink him in like a water in the desert. Caught off guard, he was tense at first, but relaxed into the kiss. His tongue caressed hers for a moment, and Glinda longed for a deeper kiss, but he tensed again and then jerked back quickly, disconnecting himself.

"No, this is wrong." He whispered hoarsely.

His eyes were unfocused and he seemed to be talking to himself. Glinda stood rooted to the spot as her last pillar crumbled under her. Tears sprung up to her eyes, and Duran finally noticed. He realized what he said and quickly went to amend it.

"No, not you. This situation is wrong, it's…it's…" he tried to explain.

"You love someone else." Glinda sobbed and her hands went to her eyes. She had no hope of stopping the tears but knew of nothing else to do.

"No!" Duran protested and then hesitated. He went again to correct himself, but then stopped again. "It's nothing to do with you. Not…exactly. It's…please, sit. I will tell you, but it's a long story."

Even through her pain, Glinda realized this was a rare moment for him, and a rare chance for her. She let him gently usher her to the bedside, and sat. He did not, however, taking a step or two away and a deep breath. He lifted the hat to smooth his hair, and then ran his hands down the front of the tunic as if to straighten it. Finally, he turned back to Glinda.

"It's not you that's wrong. It's the situation. You don't want me; I heard what happened. You have been so strong, but now you feel as if you can't go on. You're trying to find something to help you be strong."

Glinda nodded. That was she had been feeling.

"Now, you may think 'why not anyway'? And that's where my story comes in. Not too long ago, I was in a similar situation. A lady I…knew, her lover had left her. They still were in love, but fate decided they must be parted at the time. As you know about Oz, a lady may have one she loves but not necessarily be the only one she has relations with. Duty may demand otherwise."

Glinda nodded again. So far she had managed to avoid that fate, but just barely.

"Her lover had to travel, and she was promised to a man. Despite meaning nothing to her, this caused friction between her and her lover. They parted on less than amicable terms. They still loved one another, but needed to figure this out. It did not help they departed with an old flames of theirs."

Glinda paid rapt attention, her forgotten tears drying on her face.

"This lady leaned on me during this time, as most of her confidants were either far from her, or imprudent to be spending too much time with. As such, we grew closer. One night, she came to me in almost the same manner you did. Unlike tonight, I gave in. We shared a beautiful few days together."

"Now, to the warning. When her lover came back, she was truthful with them. Her lover, however, had been a bit suspicious of me ever since we met. The lovers' spat added to it, and they began to quarrel. It hurt their relationship for many months. They finally healed the breach, after much time, but I've always regretted my role in the matter."

"You worry the same would happen here?" Glinda finally spoke. He nodded.

"I do. It is not me you love; not truly. I am also not worthy of your love, were you even to give it. Therefore, anything more than friendship between us could end in disaster." He finished, and Glinda could hear the sadness he had masked to this point.

"You're...you're right. Forgive me?" Glinda whispered, looking down. She felt rough hands slip into her and looked at Duran's slight smile.

"There is nothing to forgive. Besides, this should be a joyous time for you."

"What do you mean?" Glinda asked, forcing her voice to be even. Duran quirked an eyebrow.

"You have to know. Have you told Elphaba yet?"

Glinda froze.

"How…how…" was the only words Glinda could manage. Both of Duran's eyebrow sat on his forehead.

"I feel the ripples in your magical presence. Remember that spell I gave Elphaba? After years of it, you learn how to read auras. Magical ones are particularly noticeable."

"Oh."

"So you haven't told her yet?"

"No. No I haven't." Glinda said, and placed a hand on her stomach. "I don't want to complicate her feelings. Her sense of duty would force her to be with me and our child."

"Child?" Duran said with a hint of amusement. The tone forced Glinda to look at him. His grin was from ear to ear.

"What?"

"My dear Glinda, you're carrying twins."

"W-what? How can you know?"

"Like two tiny ripples in a pond, I can see them. Powerful witches, they will be."

A shiver went down Glinda's spine.

"Is that a prophecy?" she whispered. Duran laughed.

"No, Miss Glinda. I do not believe in any fate more than we make it. I just can see it in their auras, and look at their parentage." He replied. Glinda let out a sigh of relief.

"That's good." She said. They sat there for a moment before Glinda felt awkward. "Can I…do or get anything for you?"

"A bath would be nice." He answered. "Being in the Vinkus for weeks hasn't allowed me a proper bath for a while."

"Oh! Of course. You can use mine." Glinda said and stood. Duran raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Really? I had thought to use another."

"Nonsense. Mine is the best in the flat." Glinda replied and moved towards it. Duran followed after.

The pale witch waved a hand and the faucets turned, pouring water out. Duran noticed it seemed to set to the right temperature. Glinda pointed out a few of the soaps and other necessities while Duran took off his sword belt. After that, he that waited for Glinda. When she didn't leave, he smiled.

"If you'd leave I could actually undress to get into this nice bath." He urged gently. She seemed to start a bit, but then Glinda smiled.

"Of course. I'll have fresh clothes brought for you."

"Thank you." He said, and then took off his hat and scarf. "Could you place these out there? They don't take to humidity well."

"Yes, of course. Enjoy your bath, Duran."

"Thank you, My Lady." He replied with slight smile.

Glinda paused as if to say something more, but then left. Duran shook his head with his slight smile, but then quickly got dressed down. He planned to enjoy his bath.


	2. Here We Go Again

Glinda was returning to the room with a new set of clothes when a clatter of footsteps drew her attention to the patio. She placed the clothes on the bed and drew her wand. The patio doors swung open and half a spell was out of her mouth before she realized who it was. Though, in retrospect, the wild haired black clad green woman was hard to misidentify.

"Elphaba," Glinda asked, bewildered, "what are you doing here?"

"I was attacked by assassins in the Vinkus." she breathily exclaimed. "I came to make sure you were okay."

"I am quite fine." was the retort. "I was also attacked today, but my household took care of it."

Elphaba started across the room towards her.

"We need to get you somewhere safe-"

Glinda held up a hand and took a step back.

"As I said," she repeatedly cooly. "I am quite alright, and am quite safe. Thank you for your concern, but I am not going anywhere."

"You don't understand; this was a magical assassin with dangerous, dark magic."

"Thank you for that information. While those that attacked me today were more of the mundane sort, if you were able to take care of the assassin than I should be able to protect myself as well."

"Glinda, what is going on with you?" Elphaba exclaimed. "I'm trying to protect you."

"And I am telling you I am not in need of your protection. I can take care of myself, Elphaba."

"I'm not saying you can't, I'm just wanting to make sure you are alright."

"Well, as you can see, I am fine, and am in good hands." Glinda paused and moved over to pick up the clothes on the bed. "Now, if you excuse me, I was in the middle of something. Once I am finished, I would be more than happy to sit and talk with you."

"I'm not exactly happy about being brushed off, Glinda."

"And I'm not particularly happy about you dropping in and trying to swoop me away."

Glinda strode towards the door, and it was only then that Elphaba noticed the clothes in her hand, and the direction she was going. It took her another moment to realize they were mens clothes. A scowl appeared on her face.

"You have someone in the bath?"

"It is frankly none of your business." Glinda rebutted sharply. "What I do with my own time is my own."

"Seems quick of you to take a lover." Elphaba bit out.

"Well, I see no reason to wait." Glinda snapped back. Elphaba's scowl deepened. Glinda gently knocked on the door, then opened it a crack. Placing the items just in the doors, she closed it.

"At least I hope it is someone respectable." Elphaba continued.

"It's none of your business whom it is, as I stated before."Glinda responded as she turned. "Now, shall we retire somewhere else to continue this conversation? Or shall you be on your way? I do not care to keep sniping at each other in my bedroom."

"I-" Elphaba started, until she noticed the hat and scarf. She immediately placed it, and her temper flared. "Him! You have him in there!"

* * *

Duran had been enjoying his bath when he heard the clatter of feet on the patio. He did not believe the Dogs of War would let someone penetrate the defense so easily, but did not take chances. He was out of the bath and had his sword half drawn when he heard Glinda say Elphaba's name. Knowing his presence would only make things worse, and knowing it was not his place, he settled back down in the tub.

"Besides," he said to himself, "I've not had a chance to enjoy a bath in a really long time."

As he soaked for a minute more, the door opened and a neat pile of clothes were placed on the floor. Happy now he had clean clothes, he was content to relax in the tub and hope the ladies would either take it elsewhere, or calm down. When he heard Elphaba's exclamation he grimaced.

"I really hope she doesn't bust in here." He looked down at his naked body. "That would be really awkward."

* * *

"Him! You have him in there!"

"It is none of your business who I have where!" Glinda snapped back.

"But him! You know nothing about him! He could be manipulating you for his own ends, looking to gain money or power."

"You think me so careless or stupid not to manage my own affairs?"

"Glinda, people target you to get their own ends! They've been doing it for years!"

"Yes. They _have._ But I know that, and frankly I do a damn good job keeping them from exploiting me. And I don't need you to lecture me on it! Now, if so mind, either go with me elsewhere or go home!"

"I will not let-"

"Let me what?" Glinda cut her off. "You do not have any say in what I do, Elphaba; especially not after you ran away to the Vinkus. I am a grown woman who can make her own decisions, thank you."

"You are blowing this out of proportion. I came here to save you!"

"Yes, I know. You came to save helpless Glinda from the bad people. Well, Elphaba, not only were you too late but I did not need your help! I can take care of myself, and keep my own self safe."

"But you've brought him here! Glinda, I don't think you're making good decisions."

Glinda laughed darkly. Her response was low and slow.

"I think I am making fine decisions, Elphaba. I just don't think they're the decisions you like. Which, frankly, you have no say in, lest you forgot you went to the Vinkus for a life with Fiyero. Which I am happy for you, but that does mean I have to make my own way now. You can be a big part of my life, Elphaba, but cannot be a central part anymore. I have to find my own way now, my own causes and my own feelings. Now, are you going to go with me or are you just going to go?"

"I-"

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by the bathroom door opening.

* * *

Duran heard the conversation outside continue unabated, though Glinda's voice, low and firm, was doing most of the talking. He resolved to wait it out in the bath. Unfortunately, the law of thermodynamics had a different opinion, and the water had begun to cool. Sighing, he dejectedly pulled himself up and out of the bathroom and toweled himself off. The talking outside had not relented by the time he was dry, or by the time he had dressed himself in the clean clothes. Picking up his sword belt, he strode to the door and opened it.

* * *

Elphaba recoiled as the scent of fire, steel, and blood hit her nostrils. Having had much more time to work on her magical senses, she was able to push them to the background. However, her anger flared again and she turned to the man standing in the door.

"You-" she started before she trailed off. Her anger was squelched by the sight of him, or rather his chest.

Duran's shirt had not completely fit him. In fact, it was a size or so too small, leaving a large amount of his shoulders visible and gaping open in the front. It was not the hard muscles of his body that caught their attention, but the maps of scars that crossed his body. Neither woman had thought about it until that moment, but a life of swordsmanship had left its mark. There did not seem to be an unblemished patch to be seen. Elphaba, having some scars herself, saw most were not deep, but enough were that she had to wonder how he still moved like he did. The man in question smiled at them.

"Excuse me, ladies." he said as he strode between them. Placing his hat on his head and the purple scarf around his neck, he turned his smile on Glinda. "Thank you for the bath. I much enjoyed it."

"You're welcome."

"Now, you seemed to be having a discussion. I shall take my leave. Wynessa needs some instruction."

He dipped his head and strode towards the door. He opened it and flowed out of the room. With his departure, both parties seemed to breathe again and restart where they had left off. He made his way downstairs, encountering first Jonkel. The other man dipped his head for him, and Duran stopped.

"Is the tunnel ready?" he asked the older man. Jonkel nodded.

"Mostly. We were unable to get it to the main sewer lines, but managed to find a secondary culvert we could connect with. It should give us a way out, but not to safe passage as we had hoped."

"It will have to do for now. Make ready for them to move. We need to get her out of the City as soon as possible. With Elphaba here-"

"Yes, I've been so informed." Jonkel interjected. "We didn't investigate as you were with the Lady Glinda, but Elphaba's a wildcard."

"Very true. But yes, with Elphaba here we cannot hope to lay low. I have no doubt she was seen coming into the City, and whoever is after them will not miss an opportunity to take both at the same time."

"Agreed. I will get the lady's effects ready to move, and the Dogs ready."

"Excellent. I am going to instruct Wynne. Let me know when you are ready."

* * *

The girls had cooled into a calm quiet. Elphaba was still incensed that Glinda had taken her arrival poorly, but was happy she was safe. Glinda was much the same, but was also flushed with a rise in emotions she did not want to feel again. However, Elphaba had stopped provoking her, so she had no excuse to vent her emotions. So they stood there in silence, looking at each other. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Enter." Glinda said, happy for the interruption.

"My Lady." Jonkel said as he entered. "We have prepared your things and are ready to move you."

"I thought you said it was too dangerous to leave right now, Jonkel." Glinda questioned.

"With Miss Thropp's arrival, it is now too dangerous to stay."

"Duran told you, huh?" Elphaba jabbed. Jonkel turned his grey eyes on her.

"Staff observed you as soon as you entered the block." he paused. "In the future, descend straight down from a higher angle rather than flying low across the City. It decreases the chances of being spotted."

Elphaba huffed but said,

"Then that's how I can take Glinda out. No one will be able to follow us."

"Also untrue. If we observed your flight in, anyone looking to do Lady Glinda harm will have as well. If they do not have people on the near roofs, I would be very surprised."

"Jonkel, you seem to think threat is imminent." Glinda stated. He nodded.

"It is. Once the assassination attempt failed, and we revealed ourselves to not be just ordinary household staff, whomever wished to kill you would be taking next steps for a larger coordinated effort. One does not attempt to assassinate Glinda the Good and miss, only to not try again. At this point, they do not care about ramifications in the near future."

"Then how do you expect to move her by carriage?" Elphaba asked.

"We do not. We have been working on an escape tunnel ever since the Lady Glinda retained us. It is not as complete as I wished, but it should get us most of the way to safety. You as well."

"I think I'll take my chances by-"

Another Dog entered in his crimson footman's coat.

"We've got a large gang of rough looking people moving our direction with torches." he said to Jonkel. Jonkel leveled a hard stare at him, and the man blinked. He turned to the women and bowed. "My apology, My Ladies."

"No need to apologize." Glinda responded. He dipped his head but turned back to Jonkel.

"Too many, and too direct, to be a mob. The streets are cleared before them, no traffic or carts to slow them down. Ronce has barred the gate and is currently working on the rest of the flat."

"My neighbors?" asked Glinda. He looked at her.

"Conspicuously called away on social gatherings, either for the government or government supporters social calls. And before the Lady asks, we've warned away their staff. They're empty."

"A coordinated attack, then." Jonkel nodded. "How long?"

"Fifteen minutes, maybe thirty at the most."

"Okay. Tell Ronce we'll be leaving by the tunnel as soon as possible."

The Dog snapped a fist to his chest and turned on his heel to leave. Jonkel turned back to the two women.

"Now I know they have people on the roofs. And if they're that close, they know we know about them. Hence the boarding of the house."

"My flat isn't a castle, Jonkel. There's no real way to secure it."

"Perhaps three months ago that would have been true, but we've been working on it. It will hold for a short while. Now, grab anything important and change into traveling clothes. It's time to go."

Glinda glanced around. There wasn't anything really important to grab; the flat had been emptied when she moved to Mockbeggar Hall. Though she was in more comfortable clothes, they were not really suited for travel. Glinda sighed and pulled out her wand. Giving it a twirl, her clothes changed into more suited for the role. Her distinct blonde curls also changed to brown. Putting it into a quick bun, she secured it with pins.

"I am ready. Lead the way, Jonkel."

The older man led them out of the room. The noise of the preparation hit the two girls then; shutters were being hammered closed, doors were being barred, and furniture that had remained was being strategically positioned to reinforce doors or block halls. There was no subtlety in the design. As Jonkel led them to the wine cellar, it was apparent that it would be the place most fortified. Duran was already standing there in front of a barrel.

"Same tricks?" asked Glinda. Duran turned his smile on her.

"A fake barrel that hides a passage? Why not?" he laughed.

The other Dogs slowly filed into the cellar. A few glanced at Glinda, a few more at Elphaba, but most took subtle glances at Duran. Glinda realized most had probably never seen the man, except maybe in passing or one visit. As such, they were almost relishing the time with him. When the twenty odd members of Dogs of War had assembled, Duran spoke.

"Okay, you know what's happening. We've got a bit of a mob coming to us; estimates are outnumbering us at least two to one. So we're not going to stick around and slug it out, because that isn't our goal, and it would be dumb. We're going to use this passage to move the Ladies out of the City. I've no doubt there's more of them out there than just those coming for us. Our plan is to move fast, and hit hard when we need to. As such, you'll be going through first to clear any miscreants out of the way, and the Ladies will follow. I'll be in the rear. Understood? Good. Ronce, take them through."

Glinda's Staff Captain swung the barrel up to reveal a passage. He took a lantern and led the way through. The rest of the Dogs filed through after him. The sounds of splintered wood and broken metal reached their ears. Duran motioned for the rest to hurry through, and then went up the cellar stairs to the landing. Several barrels had been arrayed around the room, barring the door but setting up an impromptu barrier for them to fight behind. Jonkel and Wynne followed him. Both women drew their wands, but the last Dog called to them from the tunnel.

"Come on!" she yelled. The women looked at her, and back to the three by the stairs.

"Go!" Duran ordered. The women hesitated, and then ducked into the passage. When they were firmly into the tunnel, Durna looked at his companions. "You two as well. I'll follow."

Wynne went to protest, but the door in front of them splintered. Another two more blows had the trio covering their eyes, and then the door burst forth. A shot rang off the stone near them. Duran's hands held two pistols, and both barked in return fire. Jonkel's rifle did as well.

"Jonkel, smoke! And then go, and bar it behind you!"

"Duran-" Wynne started, but Jonkel lobbed something over the barrels. It trailed black smoke with it. Duran pushed them both down, barely beating splintering of wood as musket balls tore through their impromptu shelter. The landing quickly filled with smoke. Duran vaulted the barrier easily. Wynne rose to follow, but Jonkel grabbed her arm.

"We have orders, Wynne. Let's go!"

The redhead growled but followed the older man. Both went into the tunnel, Wynne leading, and Jonkel swung the fake barrel into place. He twisted the locking mechanism on the reverse side, sealing the tunnel from their end. It would not open from the flat side unless destroyed or reset from this side. Both paused for a moment as the sound of blades reached their ears, but quickly turned to make their way through the dark of the tunnel. It took them ten minutes of claustrophobic darkness, but eventually a light grew on the other side. They squeezed their way out into a drain culvert, one of the many in the City. The Dogs and witches were waiting for them.

"Where's Duran?" asked Glinda.

"He stayed behind." Jonkel paused. "We have orders. Let's move. Try to stay quiet, but speed is more important."

The group did just that, trying to limit their noise while moving as quickly as they could. They followed the culvert to a storm water canal, and made their way along it. Their goal was to make it to the grain port. There were not many guards there, and most would not put up a fight if it looked like they would not win. The Dogs counted on both. However, fate was not in their favor. As they turned onto the path that led them to the walk by the river, a group of ragtag, but well armed, men stood there. They pointed, and raised their rifles.

The Dogs were quick to action, getting off the first volley with their stubby rifles. However, the men betrayed their discipline, and returned a volley even under fire. Several of the Dogs went down. Glinda flinched as one woman who had stepped in front of her collapsed. The adrenaline surge burned through her veins, and this time she let it take. Summoning a massive wind spell, she cut the air with her wand towards the river. The men were thrown into it, the river wall concentrating the spell.

"At them!" Jonekl ordered, and the Dogs that could drew blades and charged forward.

Glinda paid that no mind, and instead went to the ones that had fallen. First, the one that had taken the bullet for her. It was a bad stomach wound. Glinda, however, had experience tending wounded from the riots. She had developed a sorceric variation to the standard medic procedure. She first tapped her wand on the woman's head, the pain relief spell dulling the next part. Tapping the wound, the levitation variant took out the bullet and any other material trapped inside. The cleaning spell cleared away the excess blood and debris, hoping to minimize the chance of infection. One last tap, and the woman's clothes around the wound transformed into bandages, and secured it. Elphaba stared at Glinda for a moment.

"That's new."

"Shut up and help. These two." Glinda answered, bringing her forward. One had a shoulder wound, and the other a leg. Glinda guided Elphaba through the process. The quick study was that, having dressed enough wounds herself. Unfortunately, the next one could not be saved, having the round pass through his skull. Glinda sighed, and moved on.

In the couple of minutes it took for them to patch up and get the wounded walking, the Dogs had either killed or driven off the rest of the attackers. After the first wave had attempted to retake the walkway, and were driven off by the coordinated efforts of the Dogs, the rest had swam across the river. Glinda and Elphaba arrived with the walking wounded at the time that the Dogs finished pushing the dead and dying into the river. Both witches quickly cleaned and dressed the sword wounds.

"We've too many wounded to keep moving fast." Jonkel commented. "I hate to do this, but we have to leave you behind if we are to make it to the grain port."

The Dogs nodded grimly. They knew it was most likely a death sentence. While they were moving, many needed urgent medical attention or they would die within an hour. Either that, or another group would come upon them and finish them off.

"We are not leaving them behind." Glinda added firmly. "We can cast a spell on the wounded to make them move easier."

"That will take a lot of energy." Elphaba warned.

"And?" Glinda bit back. Jonkel shook his head.

"Too much risk. We move now."

"I will not leave them to die."

"Nor will you." came a distinct voice. They turned as a figure hopped down from the street. Even covered in blood and his face shaded by his hat, they knew who it was. The purple scarf was a give away, if not the smile. Duran looked at his Dogs.

"The wounded will make their way towards Jui Lin's. The Ladies will transform your livery to cover your bandages and wounds, and we will hide your weapons in the drain over there. They will also cast the traveling spell to make the trip faster." he nodded and the wounded started to hand off their weapons to the unwounded Dogs to store in a nearby drain. Glinda waved her wand to change the clothes of the Dogs to simple tunics and breeches.

"Now," Duran continued, "the unwounded Dogs will head towards Little Glikkun. Make for the abandoned warehouse on Low Street. You are going to be a diversion. Miss Glinda, if you will transform two of the women to resemble yourself and a cloaked Elphaba."

"That's going to get them killed, Duran." Elphaba warned.

"Miss Elphaba, I did not think you cared." Duran retorted. "But that is their duty. If they can make it to Low Street, they strip and wait there for contact from Jui Lin."

"We know our duty and with every word we will obey." Jonkel answered, snapping a fist to his chest. The rest of the Dogs did likewise, even the wounded.

"And you two will come with me. Cast the traveling spell on yourselves, and we'll go fast to the grain port. Three will be harder to spot than a large group."

"You won't be able to keep up." Elphaba replied. Glinda had already set about casting the Vinkun travel spell on the wounded Dogs.

"Why, Miss Elphaba; I didn't know that you cared." was the retort again. Elphaba huffed, and went to cast the spell on herself. The Dogs had already begun to make their way off in opposite directions. Glinda, however, conjured a letter. She tapped it, and words appeared. Tapping it again, it disappeared.

"What was that?" asked Duran.

"Many of the Dogs need assistance from a magical healer, or they will not live out the night." Glinda answered. "I sent for Singa. She will be able to provide assistance."

"Who's Singra?" asked Elphaba.

"Does it matter? She'll save lives." Glinda answered. Elphaba's eyes narrowed.

"We don't have time to discuss. If you ladies are ready?" Duran asked.

"One moment." Glinda replied, and cast the traveling spell on herself. "Okay."

"Then let's run." Duran said with a smile, and took off. The ladies ran after him.


	3. Nostalgia

Their mad dash to the grain port was just that. The two witches sped along, feet barely touching the cobblestones. The ease of motion carried them to a speed and endurance they could never hope to achieve. Duran, however, easily kept pace with them. His feet pounded the cobblestones, but his powerful legs propelled him to an equal speed of the witches. What intrigued them both was that he was not even breathing hard. The man seemed to take the sprint as a stroll; whereas, by the time they reached the grain port, both witches were breathing hard and sweating profusely. 

They approached slowly, using the stacked crates and barrels for cover. Duran glanced around it, surveying the scene. He shook his head.

“Looks like they got about a dozen guards around.” he said. “They also seem to be very on alert. This will be a little more difficult than I thought.”

He paused. Elphaba and Glinda waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, Elphaba lost patience.

“Well?”

“Well what?” he asked.

“What’s the plan?”

“I’m working on Plan A, but there’s always Plan B.” he answered.

“What’s Plan B?” asked Glinda.

“You throw a massive blinding light, and I stab all of them before they can recover.” he replied. Glinda scowled.

“I’d rather not just kill them for doing their jobs.”

“I know. So that’s why I’m thinking. The water runs the wrong way, so we can’t just bob on by. Trying to swim will get us shot. They’re not all grouped together, so taking them out all at once won’t work either.”

“So?” Elphaba asked.

“So I’m working on it.” he said. He waited a few more moments. “Okay, we need a distraction. Something that will make them leave their posts; or most of them anyway.”

“And then what?” asked Elphaba.

“Then we’ll get you to float us over the wall.”

“Won’t there be guards up there?” 

“Yes.”

“I don’t think that will work, Duran.” Glinda stated. “Any diversion we can create will most likely draw more to us.”

“Hmm. True.” he paused for another moment. “Is your bubble waterproof?”

“Well, yes.” Glinda responded hesitantly. “But it does float.”

“Even with three people?”

“Yes. And besides, underwater we would quickly run out of air.”

“Hmm.” he answered. “Well, we can always try bribing them.”

“What?” Elphaba asked.

“Give me a clean up.” He said, and pointed at himself. Glinda swished her wand and the blood left his body. “Good. Now, you two find a crate and hide in it. Let's see if we can do this the old fashioned way.”

The two women looked at each other, but went and found a simple crate they could hide in. Duran tossed a bag in, secured the lid, and walked away. The gaps in the planks let them watch Duran’s progress. For a little added security, Elphaba cast a concealment charm over them, making them look like a bunch of fruit. It would not hold up if someone put their hands in it, but if they just looked it would be fine. Duran met the guards and started talking. He gestured with one hand, and held out the other. The women knew money would be in it. Finally, he returned and walked over to the crate.

“This one.” he said.

“What’s in it?” asked one of the guards.

“If I told you that, I wouldn’t be paying you money to get it off the manifests, would I?”

“There’s fugitives out in the City.” another said.

“And you think they would try to bribe their way out in a crate?” Duran retorted quizzically. “Gentlemen, it's nothing so exciting as that; just some standard contraband: drugs, weapons, stolen art. The like.”

“Let’s pop it open and see.”

“That we will not be able to do.” Duran’s voice hardened. “You took the money; now do we have a deal, or do I have to go somewhere else?”

“We could turn you in.” one retorted. Elphaba tensed.

“You could, but then how would you make six months' pay in a day? They’ll check to see if you took a bribe. Besides, you know I will have to come back this way some time. Why not make more?”

“Fine.” said the other. “Lets get it on a boat and through the gate.”

Duran nodded at them, and they helped him struggle the crate down towards one of the tied boats.The two witches inside braced themselves the best they could so as to not shift around. Finally, they were placed, and Duran untied the boat. Grasping the oars, he calmly rowed upstream towards the grain port. The two corrupt guards walked along beside them. When they got to the grain port, they waved him through. The shadow of the great arch passed over them, and then they were outside. Duran kept rowing upstream, bypassing the first unloading dock. He continued further, passing all those that held boats. Finally, when they passed into the woods that were still near the Emerald City, he grounded the boat. Hopping out, he pulled it ashore and popped the lid.

“Well, that was easier than I thought.” he said with a smile. 

Both ladies grumbled as they attempted to get out of the crate. Glinda’s legs cramped and she fell forward. Duran caught her. Her fall, however, unbalanced the boat, and sent Elphaba tumbling into the water. She came up, sputtering curses and throwing her drenched locks out of her face. Elphaba glared as Duran set the (still clean) Glinda down on shore. He offered a hand to her, but Elphaba trudged past him. He reached in and pulled out the bag, and slung the strap across his chest. 

“Now where?” she grumbled as she strained water out of her hair. 

“The Vinkus. Kiamo Ko.” answered Duran. “It’s really the safest place right now.”

“I did not expect that answer.” Elphaba said.

“Neither did I.” Glinda agreed. “Is such an obvious place wise?”

“It may be obvious, but it is the best.” answered Duran. “The distance to the Vinkus and the inhospitable terrain and locals means it is far from the City’s reach. The Kells make the best fortress wall in all of Oz. Kiamo Ko has a large contingent of soldiers to keep you both safe. At the moment, there is no safer place.”

“So what's the plan? I make a broom and zoom out there?” she said. Duran nodded.

“In a few days. We need to make for the edge of the City’s territory for now. The less information we give them on where you are, the less likely they are to catch you when you make your flight.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go.”

The trio made their way west. Both witches cast the Vinkun traveling spell on themselves, and Duran led the way. They were still astounded at the speed he made overland. Watching him, they now did not doubt his rescue last year. He seemed to pound the earth shorter as he ran. Every so often he would stop and check on something, but for the most part the trio moved at speed. Unfortunately, as the ground opened up there was less cover for them to hide in. After a day, they made their way to the edge of a clearing.

“There isn’t any cover between here and the Vinkus.” Duran stated. “We’ll wait here for the rest of the day, and make our move at nightfall. We will need to cover a lot of ground, but by morning we should be safe.”

“Why can’t I just take off now?” Elphaba asked. “I’ll move fast enough that they’ll never see us.”

“I’m not so certain you have the room you think you do.” Duran answered.

“We haven’t seen anyone for-” 

A roar and Elphaba collapsed. Duran dove, knocking both the women into cover by a large tree. Elphaba let out a gasp of pain. Duran raised his head, peeking around the tree. He drew two pistols off his belt and aimed. Pulling both triggers, he lept around the tree. Glinda ignored him as she focused on Elphaba. She cast a pain relief spell, and then went to clearing and cleaning the wound. It did not look bad; it was bleeding, but the musket round seemed to have only hit the flesh near her hip. It did not seem to have hit anything important. Glinda finished cleaning and bandaging the wound. She peeked around the tree, but saw only Duran coming towards her.

“Only a few hunters. I took care of it. How is Elphaba?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.” Elphaba grunted. “Guess they know where we are.”

“Unlikely. They seem to be small parties, ranging around. However, the longer we stay the more dangerous it is. Can you move?”

“Yes.” Elphaba answered, and struggled to her feet. “Though flying is probably out if they’re that close.”

“Yes. We need to move now.”

“Let’s go.”

Glinda bit her lip, but did not say anything. It did not matter if it would hurt Elphaba to move; they just needed to. Both women refreshed their spell, and they headed out into the long prairie. The ground was not even, but it was not broken up as the woods had been. This let them move faster than before. However, their path was clear to anyone who would look, and so they would be easier to follow. It had become a race. 

The trio ran, Duran in the lead. Elphaba followed behind, holding her side but making good progress. Glinda ran behind her, giving silent thanks that she had started an exercise program over the last few months to help take her mind things. Elphaba staggered in front of her, and stumbled to a stop.

“Duran.” Glinda called, and the man stopped. He turned to survey the surroundings.

“Make it quick.” he answered.

Glinda made her way over to Elphaba, who was breathing hard. The green woman had pulled her hand away from the bandage, and it had come back red. Elphaba went to draw her wand but Glinda pulled her’s first.

“Let me take care of it. You should rest.”

“Eff. Fine. I need to send a letter to Fiyero, anyway.” the green woman rasped out. Pulling out her wand, she conjured a letter. Tapping it twice, it disappeared in a blink of light. Glinda finished cleaning the wound and bandages, and recast the pain relief spell. 

“Do we have any water?” asked Glinda to Duran. The man reached inside the bag, and pulled out a water skin.

“Not much, unless you can help with that.” he answered, tossing it to Glinda. The (currently) brunette tapped it with her wand, and it filled. She drank quickly but not too deeply, and offered the same to Elphaba. The woman also drank quickly, and tapped it to fill it again. She tossed it back to Duran. He took a swig of it, and put it back away. “Ready?”

With that brief stop, the trio ran again. Glinda was glad as it gave her time to rest, but not enough time to start to stiffen up, or realize how tired she was. Even with the help of the traveling spell, the women were tired. Glinda glanced up at the sky; the autumn sun was starting to wane, and they maybe had another hour or two of daylight left. She hoped they would be able to stop when it retreated. 

For Elphaba’s part, she focused only on putting one foot in front of another. She was not as young as when she would run from the Wizard’s forces, nor was she in as good of shape. Comfortable life had made her softer. The burning wound at her side did not help. However, the struggle did come with a sort of uncomfortable nostalgia. Elphaba enjoyed the feeling of a less complicated time, but did not wish for a repeat of this excursion anytime soon.

As the red sun set casting the prairie around them into golden hues, the trio hit the Gillikin River, marking the unofficial border between the Vinkus and Emerald City territory. The Gillikin River, further north called the Vinkus River, and even further north called the Gillikin River again, flowed parallel to the Kells. However, there were no bridges across the River except a small footbridge near the Cloister of Saint Glinda. As the trio had escaped north of that point and headed directly west, they would have to ford it themselves. It being fall, the river was easily passable on foot.

“Alright, once we’re over the river we should be relatively safe.” Duran said. “While they do range out a bit, I know a little place we can spend the night. It’ll be a hard push, but we’ll be far enough into the Vinkus the scouts won’t come, and we’ll have a roof over our heads for the night.”

“Lead on.” Elphaba rasped out. 

Glinda looked at her again. She was flushed, and covered in sweat, but Glinda could not tell if it was because of the run or because of the wound. Thinking on that, she pulled out her wand and moved over to Elphaba. The green woman did not fuss this time. Glinda repeated the cleaning and redressing of the wound. Even that little practiced ritual sapped her strength. She was relieved to know there was only one more hard push between them and safety. 

Glinda recast the Vinkun spell, as did Elphaba, and the trio forded into the river. It was an easy ford with the river not even reaching Glinda’s waist. The blonde (as her glamor had worn off) was happy for it, as the cool water was refreshing. Glinda even took a moment to splash some on her face and shoulders. Coming out the other side, Duran turned to them.

“It’s going to be dark soon. It will slow our going, but no lights. We don’t want to make us easier to find. There are other things out here besides hunters.”

The two witches nodded, and followed after him. True to his word, the sun soon set, casting them in darkness. They were barely past the new moon so the world was near pitch black. The women followed closely behind the walking Duran. Glinda could barely see Elphaba, and reached out a hand. She caught the green woman’s arm, causing her to jump. Once Elphaba realized it was her, she extended a hand. Glinda was grateful as she did not know how Elphaba saw in this darkness. Elphaba, for her part, could not miss Duran in the black. He shone like the sun to her witchsight. She had dimmed it enough to help with her own night vision, but he was never lost to her.

They trudged on in the darkness for hours. The thumbnail moon rose overhead. The prairie grass whispered around them, as if speaking of secrets the three did not know. Something fluttered above them, something they could only sense with its passing. In a moment of quiet, the only sound was the ragged breathing of Elphaba as she endured the trek with her wound. A braying howl cut the night, and the women jumped. Glinda crushed Elphaba’s hand tightly.

“Jackals.” Duran said from up ahead. “They’ve been following us for at least an hour. Most likely attracted by the blood Elphaba is dripping. They’ll stay back as long as we stay together.”

“Why?” Glinda asked. “If there’s that many, why won’t they just attack us.”

Duran stopped and turned to the women. In the dim light, the only thing visible were the white of his smile, and the shine of his eyes. Elphaba squeezed Glinda’s hand, or perhaps they squeezed each other.

“Because they know a fiercer monster is among us.” he turned again, and continued on. The women shivered, only partially from the dropping temperature.

After another couple of hours, a copse of trees slowly conglomerated out of the dark. They were the tall, hardy, vinelike of the only trees that could survive in a savanna. Duran was leading them in that direction. As they got closer, the hair on the back of the witches’ neck started to rise. There was something about this place that seemed...off. Duran ducked through the intertwined branches of the trees. The witches followed. As they entered, they realized that the copse had been specifically grown into a circle, creating a hedge wall that was almost impenetrable. At the center were four standing stones, each carved with a symbol, and surrounding a short mound. The rest of the hair on the witches’ body rose as they realized there was an alter on top. 

“What is this place?” hissed Elphaba. “It holds an eerier magic. I can see it's dark tendrils from all around.” 

“This,” Duran explained, making his way towards the mound, “is an old Kumbrica Witch grove. However, it was built on top of a natural magical font. They harnessed it for their own uses.”

“What?” Glinda gasped. “This is a place for sacrifice?”

“Well, yes; but rarely and mostly animals. And it hasn’t been used in almost a century.” Duran added quickly. “It was mostly used for the lunar festivals. Each cairn stone lines up with a moon in a phase. Take a look.”

The two women looked up at the standing stones. True to his words, there was a hole at the top of each. They moved until they could see the moon. They realized on certain days it would shine directly through to the altar. Turning to look for Duran, they did not see him anywhere.

“Duran!” Glinda yelled.

“Over here.” he called from behind the mound. The witches followed him. Nearly overgrown, there was a gentle slope down and a door carved into the mound. He stood in the carved doorway. “The Kumbrica Witch would stay here for a period around the festivals. Each mound was built to also be a shelter. It is where we will stay tonight.”

“How do you know nothing is in there?” asked Glinda.

“As I said,” he replied as he disappeared into the darkness, “nothing has been here for nearly a century.”

As the witches followed after him, they felt the magical energy pervasive to the place. However, they could not see in the pitch blackness of the night. Glinda took out her wand, but Duran gave her a warning.

“Wait.” he said. The witches felt him pass by. There was a slight grinding noise behind them. “Okay.”

Glinda cast her light spell, and golden rays emanated out from the orb that appeared in her hand. The dark warren was revealed in whole, and made the women feel better. It was, for the most part, the same as any other stone hovel they had been in. It just happened to be under a mound and over a magic font. The witches turned to Duran, and saw he placed a stone door in front of the exit. 

“Is that heavy?” Glinda asked, slight tremor in her voice.

“No.” He answered. “It’s not light, but you could easily move it. It’s more to keep the animals out than anyone with serious determination. However, between the cover of trees, the location, and the fact that the light will not be able to be seen, I highly doubt we need to worry about that.”

“Okay.” Glinda answered. She was about to say something when her stomach growled. She realized she was hungry; amongst other things. “Um, Duran…”

“I’ll run out and see if there isn’t something I can catch for dinner.” he answered with a smile. “You ladies can freshen up and make yourself comfortable. I have a feeling you’ll be feeling it tomorrow. We may have to rest here for several days.”

“Is that a good idea?” Elphaba interjected. “We are being pursued.”

“If you are in the shape I think you will be, we won’t be able to make it to a safe place by nightfall tomorrow. And that would be very bad.” Duran answered. “We are also far enough in the Vinkus whomever is hunting you will have to worry about Vinkuns hunting them. And the Vinkuns won’t come here, so we don't have to worry about that. Frankly, taking a couple of days, healing up, and flying your way from here is the best idea.”

With that, he moved the door and left. The women glanced at each other, and promptly followed him out. They watched as he disappeared through the vine trees. They waited for a little while to make sure he did not need to come back. Finally, the pair moved in opposite directions. 

After returning together, the two explored the grove in silence. Neither had the energy to hold a conversation, and neither wanted to break the silence of the place either. Both witches could feel the magical energy of the place. Duran had called it a font, and both agreed with the term. However, the lingering residue of years of magical use also seemed to hang like the mildew on the stone. Both witches noticed upon closer inspection that the standing stones were engraved with swirls and designs that must have had some sort of significance. When Glinda ran her fingers on one she felt it almost hum with energy. After their exploration, they returned to the inside of the mound. A little while later, Duran returned with an antelope of some sort slung over his shoulders.

“Found one. Not very big, but then again, we take what we can get. I’ll go outside and finish cleaning it. Can you start a small fire? We should be okay for right now.” he answered. 

The witches nodded, and the man exited the grove once more. The duo scanned the grounds for kindling and firewood. The kindling was easy to find, with the dead dried grass making a great fire starter. The wood was harder, but they managed to find a small bit of it. By the time they had a good fire going, Duran returned with butchered meat.

“It isn’t a whole lot, but it will do for tonight.” he replied. Finding some additional sticks, he put it over the fire. “If one of you ladies don’t mind, could you clean me up? I don't fancy smelling like prey animal until I find a stream to wash off in.”

Glinda flicked her wand, and Duran was cleaned up.

“Thank you.”

“How do you normally travel, Duran?” Glinda asked.

“Well, I either am in civilized areas where I can buy food, or pack accordingly. I did not expect to have a large Vinkun jaunt when you called me.” he answered with a smile.

“Weren’t you just in the Vinkus?” asked Glinda.

“Curse your good memory.” he said with a smile. “And yes, I was, but I was traveling with a caravan and so did not need to hunt for my food.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

“Anyway, after dinner you two should get some sleep.”

“And just what do you plan to do?” asked Elphaba.

“Why, Miss Elphaba, I told you-”

“He doesn’t need sleep.” Glinda finished for him. Duran gave her a play scowl.

“Hey now. No stealing my lines.” 

* * *

In the middle of the night, Glinda awoke to a slight scuffling. Adrenaline ran through her, and she opened her eyes. In the darkness, she noticed a figure move through the stone door, and shut it behind them. Curious, she nudged Elphaba awake.

“What?” she grumbled.

“Duran just slipped out.”

“So? Probably going to the bathroom.”

“He took all of his things.”

Elphaba stirred awake then, and both witches rose stiffly. As they did, Glinda’s hand brushed over a piece of paper. Using a much smaller light spell, she illuminated just the tip of her wand. It was a letter, penned in a familiar hand.

_ Ladies, I have business elsewhere. I shall return in a few days. If you feel well enough, please fly to Kiamo Ko before I return. Duran _

“Where would he have business out here?” Glinda whispered.

“I don’t know, but I want to find out.” Elphaba replied. She muttered a levitation spell, and the door glided back open. 

Both witches crept out of the room under the mound. They glanced around, but did not see Duran anywhere. They had assumed that he had moved through the trees into the grasslands. Elphaba pointed up on the mound, letting Glinda know she hoped to get a better look. Glinda nodded, and turned around. As they did, they found Duran, his purple scarf flickering in the moonlight. He was standing on top of the mound, directly next to the altar. Both witches ducked back to watch him. That was when they heard it. A firm and precise chanting, each word clipped out in perfect punctuation. Elphaba’s eyes widened, and she propelled her protesting legs up the mound. Glinda followed after her. Both witches knew it was dangerous to interrupt a spell, but Elphaba was brash and Glinda was so committed. As they crested the top, they felt the wind pick up and the magic rise from the earth.

“Duran!” Elphaba yelled, and the man turned.

“Do not cross the-” he started, but both witches ignored him and advanced, wands drawn. “-stone circle. Well, we’re fucking in it now. Shut up and don’t move!”

“Duran!”

“SILENCE!” he commanded. 

Both women bit their tongues. He had never raised his voice like that, and the force of personality behind it took them aback. He began his chant again. Both witches felt the swelling of magic being drawn beneath them. Elphaba could see it, a geyser of magical energy flowing from the earth to the standing stones, and swirling around them in a vortex. It took her breath away at the enormity of it. That, and the increasing pressure around them. She looked to Glinda, who also noticed it. The two witches were having a hard time standing, let alone moving or speaking. The stars seemed to spin above them, and they could swear the sun and the moon rose and fell while also circling the stars. And then…


	4. Lacking Answers

Both women sat up. The sun hung above them, nearing midday. Glinda groaned and grabbed her head. Not only did it hurt, the rest of her body ached as well. Elphaba gave her a similar bleary eyed look.

“I see you two are awake.” Duran's voice came. He was holding cooked meat on skewers for them. Perhaps not the best breakfast, but both girls were famished.

“What happened? What did you do to us?” Elphaba accused. 

“ _ I _ did not do anything.” he answered. “ _ You _ crossed into a stone circle in the middle of a ritual. A very foolish thing to do, as you should know.”

“What was that?” Glinda groaned. She took the meat skewer from Duran. 

“A translocation spell.” he answered, and handed Elphaba the other skewer. “Highly temperamental and dangerous.”

“You’ve constantly told us you’re not a sorcerer, yet you wield more powerful magic than us, including things we don’t know.” Elphaba paused. “You’ve lied to us.”

Duran sat cross legged in front of them.

“I have not. I am not a sorcerer nor have any talent for sorcery. The magic you have seen me perform is not something I perform through my own innate abilities, but are borrowed from others.”

“What does that mean?” Glinda said. He smiled at her.

“It means the spells I cast are only able to be done so because a sorcerer has cast another on me that allows them.”

“Huh?” Elphaba replied.

“Basically, like your ability to see magic. You cannot do it innately, but can do so because of a cast spell.”

“Oh.” Elphaba answered. “So that’s how you get around so quickly.”

“Not quite.” he answered. “A translocation spell, as I’ve said, is very dangerous, very tempermental, and requires a significant amount of magical energy to do. Hence, I needed a magical font to do it.”

“So you planned to bring us here?” Glinda asked. 

“It was a contingency I happened to plan for.” was his response.

“That’s obfuscating.” Elphaba snapped.

“No, it’s how I think. I did not plan to have to run to the Vinkus; otherwise, I would have had more supplies. I did not plan to go out the grain port, meaning we were too far north to take the southern road. I did not plan to be hunted and need to cut across the country. But all of those possibilities had contingencies for which I planned for, which ended up with this eventuality.” he answered.

“And the magical font is how we returned?” asked Glinda.

“Yes and no. Yes, because it is a waypoint for us to return to. No, because it does not have the energy to translocate again for a while.”

“What do you mean it does not have the energy?” Elphaba asked.

“Look, Miss Elphaba, with your magical sight. Do you see the same amount of magic around us as before?”

Elphaba opened her eyes to the magical world around her. Duran still shone bright, and both witches held a soft glow of magical after effects. But the magic that had been so pervasive was gone.

“No.”

“Exactly. We were lucky that this hasn’t been used for a long time. Otherwise only half of us would have arrived in the location. I would not have been fond of arriving without my skin.”

Both witches shuddered at the image.

“You said you’d be gone a couple of days; yet it is only the afternoon.” Glinda pointed out.

“Ah. But on what day?” he answered with a smile. Both girls furrowed their brows, and then Elphaba went to check her wound. It had healed significantly, more so than even several days of healing would give. 

“How long were we gone?” Elphaba asked.

“A few days.” he answered. “Luckily enough, we were able to find ingredients for a healing draft on the way, so you could get better faster.”

“A few days! Then you wiped our memories!” Elphaba accused. Duran’s eyebrows rose, and he withdrew two letters from his bag. He held them out.

“ _ I _ did not wipe your memories. It is not a capability  _ I  _ have.” he answered. “ _ You _ wiped your memories and, to let you know I am telling the truth, you wrote yourselves these letters that you signed and sealed.”

Both witches took the letters. True to form, they had their own names scrolled across the front. Elphaba opened hers first.

_ Elphaba (that’s weird to write), _

_ You had a pet salamander named Sticky. You never told anyone. Now that’s out of the way, Duran is telling you the truth, though I know you must hate to hear that (as I hate saying it). You wiped your memory for your own good. Yes, I know; you don’t know a memory wiping spell. Well, you did, or do, but not anymore. Either way, there are some things that you are better off not knowing. I know; knowledge is good for its own sake. But some things you need to forget for your own sanity’s sake. Trust me. I’m you. Wait, that’s a terrible argument. Well, whatever. Focus on clearing up things with Glinda rather than this. I know you won't listen to that, but I’m going to say it anyway. _

_ Elphaba. _

“Oh come on!” Elphaba yelled. “Now I have to know. This letter makes it worse.”

Glinda chuckled and opened hers.

_ My dearest, most beautiful, sweetest, charming Glinda, _

_ Yes, I know that’s over the top, but it’s not often I get to write a letter to me, now is it? So let me indulge in my own vanity, mostly quashed after school, but still there for a moment. It’s been a stressful trip, hasn’t it? We were right; the Vinkus does nothing for our hair. Though this trip will give us lovely definition, won’t it? Though put a hat on, or you’ll burn. Trust me on this; I had a nasty one when I woke up the other day.  _

_ Oh yes, the whole it’s been several days thing. Well, it has been, but you just have to trust Duran on this, and yourself. There's nothing in the last couple of days you’d really care about. As such, you quite easily put it away. A useful thing, a memory spell. Duran knows the secret; he promised to tell you when you get to Kiamo Ko.  _

_ Anyway, take care, be kind to yourself, and get that hat!  _

_ Glinda Arduenna Upland, once Glinda the Good, once Galinda, and almost once the Baroness of Paltos. _

Glinda looked up at them.

“How very curious. Well, let us put that behind us, then.”

“Excellent!” Duran clapped his hands together. “Eat and then you should be good to cast that flying spell. And then we can go our separate ways.”

Duran trudged down the mound to get more food. Glinda stood, and felt something shift in her dress. Reaching inside, she withdrew a long white veil. She stared at it curiously.

“What is that?” Elphaba asked.

“I don’t know. It can only be something from our trip. It quite reminds me of yours, and Wynessa’s.”

“A sign to not trust the letters?” Elphaba asked, throwing the form of Duran a suspicious look.

“No. We would have put erroneous information in the letters otherwise. But a sign to maybe look into later.”

“Yes, I-”

Both witches saw it. A group of dark skinned men in animal skins entering the grove from every side. There had to be at least two dozen of them; some carried bows, some rifles. One, a little better dressed than the rest, held up his spear. 

“I come bearing a command from the Princess Nastoya.” he called to them. Duran’s hand dropped to his sword, but did not draw. “You are to come with us to here.”

“Well, shit.” Elphaba said.

“Guess we get to see her again.” Glinda sighed. 

* * *

The trio walked the Vinkus plains loosely surrounded by the band of Vinkuns. It was less than an escort but more than a guide. Either way, they treated the witches with respect, and Duran with wary cordiality. The men could tell from his easy walk he was no stranger to their lands, and his armaments that he was not one to be trifled with. For his part, he took the journey with the smile and grace he always portrayed, though the women could tell he was full of restless energy. The group was moving too slow for him. It was far too quiet for Glinda.

“How far until we reach the Scrow encampment?” she asked the one who looked to be the leader.

“About another day.” he answered. Glinda huffed. Despite conjuring a big floppy hat to cover her face, she was not enjoying the Vinkus.

“It would be quicker if the witches just flew there.” offered Duran. 

“The Princess wished us to escort them to make sure they arrived.” the man answered. He turned to look at Duran. “And you as well.”

“Me? I’m just a bodyguard for the ladies. I don’t know why she would want to see me.”

“The Princess was very explicit. The Shamans and anyone else who traveled with them.”

“So not Duran in particular.” Elphaba said. “Just our party.”

“No. She was very clear there was someone or something among you that must be brought before her.”

“How interesting. And how did she know where we were?” asked Glinda

“The Princess has ways of knowing these things.” he answered.

“Scrying.” Elphaba translated. “Probably using bones or crystals, depending on the tradition.”

The man gave her a scowl but she ignored it.

“However, it is interesting that she could not scry you.” Elphaba looked at him. Duran smiled and shrugged.

“One of many talents.”

“Natural and unnatural?” Elphaba retorted.

“Mostly unnatural.” he glibbed back.

“Yes. Many of us wonder if you are a Rakasha, a demon who takes on human form.” the leader spoke firmly. Duran laughed but glanced around as he did. The eyes were on him.

“I am not some demon come to kill you.” he said. “I am a man; maybe not like any other, but from a mother just as well.”

“What was she like?” Glinda interjected.

“Who?” Duran asked, genuinely puzzled. 

“Your mother.” she answered. “You’ve never mentioned any family before.”

“Haven’t exactly had long conversations, have we?” he answered with a wink.

“De~flec~tion.” Glinda sing-songed back. He laughed and grasped his chest.

“Oh! I’ve been struck! I match wits and orations with the best of them.” he gasped and staggered. “Alas, cruel world, to be undone by such a fair maiden.”

Duran gave a very loud gasp and fell to the ground over dramatically. The Vinkun warparty stopped, eyeing each other in disbelief at his actions. Elphaba rolled her eyes while Glinda giggled. Duran groaned and flopped on his back.

“Though, on second thought, there are uglier faces to die seeing.” he said with a smile. Glinda blew out air in exasperation, and nudged him with her boot.

“Get up, you big ham. No amount of flopping about will get you out of the question. I was engaged to Fiyero, remember?”

“How very true. He knew a good fop flop.” Duran laughed and hopped up to his feet. “Though I dare say you are lucky you didn’t marry him. The Vinkus does nothing for your complexion.”

“I am aware, and to say nothing of my hair.” she replied. Glinda found a stick nearby and gave it a tug. It came loose of the ground, covered in good black dirt. A tap of her wand caused it to straighten and bloom a parasol. Putting it over her, she continued. “But now onto the question.”

Glinda dipped her head, and the Vinkun party continued on its way.

“I don't rightly remember.” he answered, wistfulness in her voice. “It was a long time ago, and I did not spend many years with her.”

“Did she die?” Glinda asked. Duran shook his head.

“No; well, at least not when I was with her. At a certain point, my father came calling and whisked me away. I wish I could say I remembered something like her standing sadly in the doorway as a last memory, but I recall nothing of her more than she existed.”

“Why did your father take you?” Elphaba asked.

“Simple, Miss Elphaba. He took me away to become this.” he replied, and motioned to himself.

“And what is this?”

“Devilishly handsome, if I must say.” he answered, shooting them a smile. Elphaba glowered at him.

“Was that all a lie? Some sad tale to make us feel bad?” she asked angrily. 

“No, Miss Elphaba, it was not. I’ve yet to lie to you at all. And will continue not to do so.”

“Excuse me, sir?” asked Glinda. The leader looked at her.

“Yes?”

“Why do you think he is a demon?” she asked.

“He reeks of blood. He’s steeped in it from the men he killed.” the leader paused. “He also has an unnatural feeling about him, as if he is not quite right.”

The three looked at Duran. He remained quiet, looking at them.

“What? No smart comeback?” asked Elphaba. 

“All I’ve got is a sexual innuendo, and I don’t feel like it would be truly appreciated by the present company.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes again. It was quiet again for a long time.

“So...does anyone know any good traveling songs? If not, I can always sing my favorites.” Duran supplied. Elphaba groaned. Glinda sighed. The lead warrior turned his head forward. 

“No? Okay, here we go.”

“ _ One morning, one morning, one morning in May _ ,

_ I spied a young couple, they were making their way _ .

_ One was a maiden so bright and so fair _ ,

_ and the other was a soldier and a brave volunteer _ …”

* * *

There was a small crowd as they entered the Scrow encampment. It was not too long ago the two women had visited, and it was remembered fondly. The looks of apprehension at Duran were hard to miss. The man outwardly ignored them, keeping a relaxed smile on his face. Whenever he met someone’s eyes he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Unlike the last time they were here, the three were not escorted to a tent, but rather led straight to the Princess Nastoya. At the entrance, the guard halted them.

“All weapons, please.” he said, looking at Duran. 

The man sighed melodramatically, but unhooked his belt. He handed it to the nearest guard, and then unslung the pack from his back, handing it to the same guard. Reaching down into his boots he pulled a long knife from one and a short pistol from the other. He handed the guard each. He pushed up his sleeves, and underneath were two vambraces. Turning his hands down, he unstrapped the throwing daggers and pulled them from their sheaths. Placing them atop the pile in the guard’s arms, he lifted his hat. Rummaging inside, a long thin flexible pin came out. He gingerly put it on the top. The two witches stared at him in puzzlement and amusement.

“What?” he asked. “I like to be prepared.”

The guard turned to walk away but Duran called after him. 

“I expect all of that back, thank you!”

He turned back towards the entrance, but another guard stopped him.

“Really?” he asked. The man glared. Duran raised his arms in the symbol known everywhere. The man began to pat him down. He smiled ruefully as the two women watched. “I think it’s patently unfair that you two get to watch me get pawed at like some harem girl in a silk negligee while you do not have to undergo the same treatment.”

“Now there’s an image.” Elphaba snarked back. “Perhaps they remember my threat to turn them into toads.”

“I think you would look fabulous in purple transparent silk.” Glinda added. Elphaba rolled her eyes and Duran let out a bark of a laugh. He grunted in the back of his throat as the guard roughly struck the inside of his thigh.

“Easy there, big guy, or you’re liable to get an eyeful.” he commented. 

The man gave him a hard look but continued patting him down. As he made the way back up Duran’s chest, he grabbed the purple scarf to examine it. Duran’s hand shot out and captured the man’s wrist in a vice grip. 

“You’ve done quite enough checking. Let go of the scarf.” he said in a low, slow tone. The guards tensed around him, but Duran did not seem nervous. He stared in the guards eyes, and the man eventually let it go. Duran smiled and the tension slowly released, but the unease was there. Duran continued, “It is very special to me, given to me by a very special person.”

The guard stepped back, but none missed the red marks on his wrist. The women glanced at each other. The guard ushered them in. As they ducked into the tent, Elphaba saw (and Glinda felt) the crossing of the magical barrier. The tent was set up with cleverly disguised totems made to enhance the Princess’ power. It was the same idea, though to a lesser extent, as the Kumbrica site. To Elphaba, the magic pervaded her senses, emanating from the totem and suffusing every corner and person. All except one.

Duran’s aura flickered and popped like a flame, keeping the magic of the totems from enveloping him. Elphaba noticed more directed magical tendrils reach out to ensnare Duran, but they withered as the wound around him. He walked through them as easily as a field, a smile never leaving his face. Elphaba was determined to find out how. Later.

“Princess Nastoya.” Glinda curtsied. Elphaba bowed her head. Duran dipped his own. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The Princess reclined in her seat. Her massive bulk fit the rest of her form with the large eyes and upper lip dominating her face. Both women knew this was partially an illusion, partially a transformation. The woman was no woman, but an Elephant that had guided the Scrow for decades. 

“You crossed into my territory and used a Kumbrica circle, something that I have outlawed. I cannot alone let that stand.” she drawled out slowly. Glinda opened her mouth but Duran got words out first.

“You hold no domain over the magical places, Princess.” he said with ease. “Your authority is only your own. And the Circle is not even in your domain as well.”

“A thing such as you, masquerading as a man, dare speak to me such?” she growled out, her frame seeming to expand. The women felt the pressure rise in their skulls.

“Quite a comment from one masquerading as one yourself.” Duran shot back. “Come now, tell us what you really wish. You did not scry for the witches and move your people into danger simply to reproach them for using the Circle.”

Glinda saw the conversation’s bent, and tried to intervene. However, words would not come. She watched on in silent horror as Duran prodded the Elephant.

“You will be silent.” she hissed. 

The pressure grew, and the two witches felt a chant in their minds. Elphaba realized the Princess was subvocalizing, and saw tendrils spear out from the totems to Duran. They wrapped around him, holding him tight. Duran raised his arm, as if drawing up through quicksand, and then cut downward. The room exploded in light all could see. Elphaba noticed the tendrils were gone now, severed by whatever force protected Duran.

“I know what you are, Makelea.” she rumbled. 

“Do not try to use the  _ kudesh _ against me,  _ Saeresha _ . I’ve crossed the Impassable Desert and stood with the Umberans as well.” he answered sternly. “You cannot bind me. Tell me why we are here.”

“I cannot bind you,” she ignored his comment, “but I can bind them.”

Duran laughed lightly.

“You would not tread on the skein of fate so heavily. Quit the empty threats.”

“No, you are quite right. Your wisdom is great for one so old.”

“The point,  _ Saeresha _ .” he emphasized slowly. 

“I do not know what you are. You are a Makelea, but you are not. Makelea can be scryed while you cannot. There is something also...false, about you.” she paused and took a deep heaving breath. “I cannot let someone such as yourself move through my territory without knowing what you are.”

“I am no danger to you.” he answered. “I have no want to hurt the Scrow.”

“And yet tales of the Pale Jaguar persist even now. Some lost kin to such a beast.”

Duran was silent for a long time. Finally, he said,

“That was many generations ago. None live who would have lost any.”

“Not so long, Makelea. Not even a generation.” she answered. Duran’s eyes narrowed.

“Then it was not I who did it, so you cannot blame that on me.”

“No, but you know who or what did.”

“Possibly. Of what concern is it of mine, or theirs?” he asked, gesturing to the women. 

“My people want blood; your blood. Their honor cannot be sated otherwise.”

“They will find it more than they wish.” Duran bit out. “You cannot wish for them to die in such a foolish pursuit.”

“You are right, and they will heed my word.” she paused. “ _ But I have to know what you are. _ ”

“And if I refuse?” he asked. “What then? Do you expect to make war on me?”

“No. I expect to take my people over the Thousand Years Grasslands and never heed the call of the Arjiki or the Witch ever again.” was her answer. Duran’s jaw worked slowly. Finally, he said. 

“And what would this all entail?” he asked cautiously. “You know your truth bindings will not work on me.”

“A simple spell, one that the witches had placed on them before. It reveals your spirit animal.”

“And with this you will let us be on our way?” he asked warily.

“Yes.” she answered.

“Fine.” he said quickly. “Let us get it over with.”

The Princess bowed her head. The incense in the room began to twist and swirl, forming tendrils of smoke. The pounding in their heads increased. Elphaba noticed something strange, but the pounding and chanting could not let herself focus on it. As the tendrils danced their way towards Duran, the shrunk back as if burned. He took a deep breath, and they advanced again, surrounding him and passing through him. With a loud burst of air, they sprang forth and made a shape.

The thing that appeared was an abomination against nature. Here the face Lion roaring; there a beak of an Eagle. The four legged body had paws and claws and talons. It sprouted wings of leather and feathers. Three tails whipped from its body, one a lizard’s; one a scorpion’s; and one a beast they could not identify. The room shrunk back in horror, but Glinda realized quickly something was wrong. Whereas her and Elphaba’s had been smoky but still of definite form, this one was translucent. It roars and hisses sounded...hollow and weak. As if from a far distance. Glinda did not know what to make of it.

“There.” Duran snapped. “Now let us be on our way.”

“You are not going anywhere!” she rebutted firmly. 

Light sprang forth. Duran was dragged downward. He caught himself on his hands, and glared upward at the Princess. He attempted to stand, but his body was wrapped in chains of light. As he struggled against them, they flared brighter. He stopped for a moment, and then managed to push himself back on his knees and get his feet under him. He bared his teeth at Nastoya.

“What sort of Princess or Animal of self respect breaks their words so easily?” he growled out with considerable strain.

“If you were just some mad beast I would not have.” the Princess answered. “But you are something else. Your spirit animals are false; embedded but not natural.”

The Princess paused and turned towards the women.

“All of those of Oz have a spirit animal, regardless of who they are.” she said slowly.

Duran growled and tried to rise again. The chains kept him shackled to the earth. The women saw in his face then an expression they never had before. Rage. It was the face of a killer in bloodlust.

“What are you?” Nastoya asked. There was a pounding in the witches head as she compelled the answer. Elphaba saw the wave of magical force flood from the Princess. “What worlds do you come from? Answer me.”

Duran growled and attempted to rise again. The chains burned bright, and this time he managed to get a leg up. He was stuck there, however. The women began to smell the burning of fabric. Glinda started to become frantic. Magical energy manifesting like this was never a good sign.

“Answer me!” the Princess commanded. Another wave of force from her, and Duran dipped his head in pain. He looked back at her and growled, but there were no words. “I command you to answer!”

Duran dipped his head again, but attempted to rise. The chords in his neck strained, and the chain burned. The woman saw holes in his shirt appear, and the stench of burning hair and flesh reached them. Duran continued to strain, and his hands rose from the dirt. The Princess thundered another force, putting Duran hands back in the dirt. Blood began to trickle from his ears and nose.

“Stop!” Glinda commanded. The Princess ignored her. Glinda summoned her own magic, and sliced the binds around her. “I said stop!”

“You hold no weight here, Glinda the Good.” the Princess bit back. “Stay your tongue.”

“You will kill him and get nothing for it.” she retorted. 

“Better that he dies than he lives on with none knowing what he is.” 

“If he dies, Nastoya, you will come to regret it.” Glinda threatened. Nastoya finally turned those large eyes on her, and they were filled with anger.

“You dare threaten me in my own enclave, child? You have no power here to match mine.”

“Perhaps.” Glinda answered. The parasol in her hand grew and morphed into a whitewood staff with a large crystal at the top. “But do you think you have the power to stop Elphaba and I?”

Elphaba started, but was not going to let Glinda go into a fight alone, no matter how she felt on the subject. She cut the bind around her and her hands lit with fire. The guards in the tent tensed, readying their weapons. Elphaba knew it would be a brutal fight even if they could win.

“You would go to such lengths for this thing?”

“I have my reasons.” Glinda replied. “The question you should be asking yourself is will you risk destruction for an issue better solved? If you kill Elphaba and I, the Arjiki and the Witch Guard will come down on whatever remains of the Scrow. Not including the Dogs of War.”

“And how do you suggest we better solve this? I need answers.”

“Are you so ill versed in truth circles and compelling spells that you do not know how they work?” Glinda asked rhetorically. “Combining the two does wonders, but if you brute force someone’s mind you are more likely going to destroy it, and possibly kill them, then get answers. The mind is a puzzle, Nastoya; you don't take a hammer to a puzzle. You find how it fits together.”

The Elephant paused for a moment, then said,

“What do you suggest?”

“I will question Duran until I believe I have reasonably satisfied both your, and my, curiosities.” was her answer. Duran hissed. Glinda crossed in front to put herself between the Princess and him. “Familiarity and comfortability also helps with compelling spells.”

“I do not know the wisdom of this plan.” she hesitated.

“It's either that, or destruction for all of us.” Glinda paused. “Choose.”

Nastoya hesitated again, and then said,

“I need to know what he is.”

“I will find out the answer as satisfactorily as I can.” was her response.

“Then proceed.”


	5. Disturbing Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glinda gets the answers she seeks to old questions.

Glinda turned her back to Princess Nastoya. Bending over, she lifted Duran’s eyes to meet her own. In those brown eyes she saw rage, pain, determination, and strangely enough, fear. She did not know what this man might be afraid of. 

“Duran, please calm down. I am going to ask you some questions. If you answer it will all be over sooner.” she put on her best soothing voice.

Duran strained against his magical bonds again, and Glinda could hear the slight sizzle of his skin burning. Glinda searched his eyes for some form of recognition, but did not find any. Something had overtaken his mind; some sort of unnatural defense built in against magical compulsion perhaps. Glinda wondered again what horrors had been inflicted on this man. Glinda put on her most dazzling smile and sweetest voice, and wove her compulsion spell behind it.

“Duran…” she said slowly, softly, sweetly. “Do you know who I am?”

The man relaxed a little bit, but not completely. Glinda smiled more and went to speak.

“What did you say?” Nastoya interrupted her. Duran instantly surged upward against his bonds again. Glinda spun and shot a harsh look at Nastoya.

“Keep quiet!” she snapped. 

“Do not speak to me that way!” Nastoya rumbled back. “I deserve respect.”

“You need lessons in sorcery.” was Glinda’s reply. “You are skilled, but bluntly. You see the magic upon him, but did not think there would be some on his mind? You triggered them, and now he is stuck in that loop.”

“A maddened beast should be put down.” Nastoya hissed. The room inhaled as Glinda leveled her staff at her. The crystal atop it shone bright.

“You’ll do, or say, no such thing. What you shall do is sit there in silence so I may coax the answers out of him.”

Nastoya let out a deep gurgle of indignant rage. Glinda raised her eyebrows, but Nastoya said or did nothing further. Finally, she said,

“I need answers.”

Glinda turned back around to look at Duran.

“And you shall get them. I am a true leader, and I do not break my word once given.”

The reproach was not missed by any. Elphaba noticed the guards gripping their weapons tightly. She silently prepared herself for one of them to break discipline and make a move on them. However, none did. After a moment, Glinda took a deep breath and tossed her hair. Elphaba could see a gentle glow come over her. She did not know what spell Glinda was using, but trusted her.

Glinda for her part was using a spell she created over the last few months from a combination of spells that she found in the back of the book Duran had given them, and Elphaba had left with her. It enhanced her beauty, attractiveness, and charisma to boost her already well developed charm and emanated a calming aura. All she hoped would work on Duran.

Leaning down again, she spoke gently,

“Duran, do you know who I am?”

He relaxed, but did not answer. Glinda dripped the honey of the compulsion spell into her voice.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Glinda...Arduenna...Upland.” he said slowly. His breathing labored. “Do...I have to...say all of the titles?”

“You do not.” Glinda smiled in relief. She did not know if he was going to be too far gone to reach.

“Brilliant...sorceress.” he continued. Glinda frowned slightly as that was not compelled. “Getting around...the guards…but...still fighting.”

Glinda’s frown deepened. That confirmed it. His mind was magically altered to protect against spells. But the fact that the spells were still being triggered meant highly advanced magic. Realizing her face, she put on her smile again.

“Just relax. We’ll not ask difficult questions.” Glinda soothed. “What is your name?”

“Names are for people… from somewhere or have a title.” he answered. Glinda rolled her eyes.

“Incorrigible as always.” she said. “Is a name you’ve introduced yourself by Duran?”

“Yes, though it is shortened.”

“Shortened from?” Glidna asked without thinking.

“Durandal.”

_ That was new information _ , Glinda thought.

“Durandal.” she paused. “I quite like it.”

Duran chuckled.

“Now, Durandal, the next question: how old are you?”

Duran did not answer. He flexed his muscles slightly in the magical chains of light, but did not struggle. Glinda started her questioning over again.

“Durandal, do you know who I am?”

“Glinda.”

“And what is your name?”

“Durandal.”

“And how old are you?”

“How...long...since...Wizard...left?” he strained out. Glinda started back at the top.

“Durandal, do you know who I am?”

“What is she doing?” Nastoya grumbled out. She was startled when Elphaba walked over to her and answered.

“Layering.” Elphaba stated. “The compulsion charms cannot break through the magical defenses without harming him. So Glinda first soothed him, and asked an easy question to get an easy answer. When resisted, she starts again. The answers become easier, and she can slip through the defenses.”

Glinda smiled, and asked again,

“And how old are you?”

“How long since the Wizard left?”

“Seven years.” Glinda answered. 

He flexed again, but did not tell her a number. Glinda started over.

“Seven years.” she prompted again.

Duran cocked his head to the side and she could see him counting in his head.

“Two hundred and twenty-six, give or take a decade or two.” he answered. 

“Two twenty-six?” Glidna squeaked out in surprise.

“I know, I don’t look a day over one twenty-five.” was the response. Glinda looked at Duran, and through the haze of pain there was a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

“And how long have you been waiting to use that joke?” Glinda retorted.

“At least a hundred years.”

“How?”

Duran dropped his eyes and struggled against his bonds. Glinda bit back a sigh and started over again.

“How?” she asked for a second time.

“Dubious...magic.” he strained out. Glinda did not push, but restarted her questioning. Then,

“Dubious magical practices.”

“You came up with these yourself?”

“No, the Warrior Monks of the Makelea, in the region of Raelen, to start with.”

“Raelen?” Elphaba pondered. “Raelen was an old territory in what is now Fliaan, before it unified.”

“The bookworm gets it.” Duran laughed. “But Nastoya already knew that.”

The witches turned the Elephant.

“The Makelean Knights were an Order in Fliaan that ended over two hundred years ago.” she rumbled. “They were supported directly by the State. They made superb warriors, absolutely loyal to the Monarchy. Unfortunately, the Monarchy lost a Civil War, and the Makelean Knights were deemed too much of a threat to the new Monarchy to continue. They were purged shortly after.”

“It was a glorious battle.” Duran interjected. Glinda saw his eyes shine at the memory. “They besieged the Keep. We were low in numbers, of course, just having lost so many in the war. They brought siege engines, but we burned those early. They could not retreat, you see, as we would make our escape. They tried to wait us out, but the Keep was well stocked, and we picked off squads every night. Given a year, they would not have had an army left. So they marched into the teeth of our defenses, launching fire arrows and burning pots. We fired back, and met them on the causeway. Their numbers meant nothing there, and we threw them back a dozen times. I shattered no less than six swords in that battle. But numbers tell, and we still lost brothers. They pushed us back, and back, and back. We kept fighting, Gods of War all. My closest compatriot, Mikel, was to my right wielding a spear that cut many a throat. My rival Dorian on my left, two handed sword cleaving through warriors. I had two maces at that point, little more than steel bars, as all our shields had been split and my swords bent and broken.”

Duran laughed in joy at the memory. His story held them all in rapt attention. They could almost see it, a group of warriors without peers holding off a tide of others.

“It was then they retreated, and the cream of their new army thundered up on horse. A smart tactical decision; waste our strength on the masses, and crush us with the expensive and well protected horse when we were tired.”

He gave a feral smile.

“Of course, it was also predictable. Nobles hate fair fights. We fled before them, and they had thought our will had broken. Broken! Us! The finest warriors in Nonesetica.” Duran laughed again. “They chased us into the keep, and never saw the spiked pits we dug just beyond the gate until it was too late. Their horses fell, and dragged them all down. Now, with so much time to prepare, we of course filled the pits with water and filth taller than any man could stand. Their gleaming knights in plate drowned in filth. A very poetic end, I did think.”

He sighed.

“Either way, we had given up hope of keeping the Keep. Not all their knights died, of course, but we were down to just a handful. And there was too much loss for them not to press on. So when they attacked the next day, we were gone. Disappeared down the secret tunnels they never knew about.”

“And what happened to the King?” asked Glinda. 

“He had trouble keeping his kingdoms with so many of his elite cadre lost. The noble families were not happy with him, nor were the peasantry. Few years later he was found one morning mounted over his own fireplace.”

“You?” Glinda asked. Duran shook his head.

“No; there were seven of us at that point. That was Samus. He was always the shock and terror one. Not that we disagreed, just that none of us cared enough to do it. Samus was already slipping into his madness then, though.”

“Madness?” Glinda asked. Duran’s words were flowing easier, and she wanted to keep him talking for the spell to reinforce itself. 

“Yes, madness. See, a problem with a Makelea Knight is that we eventually all go insane. Byproduct of the magical process. The thought was what was done is so unnatural the mind and spirit rebel.” Duran shrugged his shoulders. “No idea if that is true. Anyway, the only way to keep that from happening is to bind yourself to someone. The old Monks had bound themselves to each other, making them stable and loyal. However, they got greedy, and started binding some monks to Nobles and the like for favors. Eventually someone slipped how to do it to the Lord of Raelen, and he began to make his own. Bound to him, of course. The first charge of the Makelea Knights was the destruction of the Temple Monastery of the Monks.”

He paused, then continued.

“Though that was a couple hundred years prior to my time. Anyway, the Knights took over the Monastery, and the line of Kings grew the realm of Raelen with the Knights as his elite. However, there was a known problem with the binding; it eats up the lifespan of Knight. A Makelea Knight does not physically age, and is always in top physical condition throughout their life. The madness if not bound sets in after about twenty years, and then they are usually killed. Traditionally sent in a last glorious charge. However, if bound, they can last for at least forty years before the body begins to break down. But the catch there is if the person they are bound to dies before that time, they also slip into madness. So it's madness one way or another, just if bound they can last longer.”

“How terrible.” Glinda gasped. Duran shrugged again.

“Life is. Anyway, those of us that escaped had all been unbound. The Order Master had seen which way the war was going for quite a few years, and had hoped to transition over to the new Lord. Mikel, Dorian, and I were all around the same age, late twenties, so we had at least a decade yet. One of us, Amon, was on the tail end of it. We had to kill him not a year out. Samus was next, though he slipped away from us. We ended up hunting him for six months straight before we found him in Ev having just massacred a convent.”

“So why haven’t you descended into madness?” Glinda asked.

“Because we figured out how to stave it off. We found it is because we don’t sleep, as I’m sure you are aware.” Duran answered with a slight smile. “So we figured out how to layer another spell on top of what we have to allow us to speed up the sleep process. Instead we only need about thirty minutes of meditation. It drastically dulls our senses, but it allows us to remain conscious of our surroundings, somewhat.”

“Like in the warehouse in the Emerald City the night you guarded us.” Glinda offered. Duran nodded.

“Still so observant. Yes, you caught me meditating. I usually do it while tending to my sword. However, I can do it while doing forms also.”

“Which is why you didn’t notice Elphaba.” Glinda added.

“Right again. Though neither our spells for physicality or spells of the mind ensure us the long life. That is a spell of the spirit.” he answered.

“And how did you find that one?” Glinda asked.

Duran dipped his head but did not speak. Glinda recognized now the flexing of his muscles meant the spell was fighting back. So once again, she returned to the beginning. After a few questions, she asked,

“If the Makelea Knights were so superior, why not make more of them?” 

“Hard to do...starts pre-teen...also sterile.”

Glinda blinked. The horror of his early life was becoming clearer. Repeating the ritual questions, she added,

“So how many of your compatriots are left?”

“Three…” he rasped out. Duran shook his head. “There are...three of us.”

Glinda started over, and then asked another question,

“Which three are left?”

“Mikel...and...Dorian.” he shook his head. “Neither...good.”

Glinda started her questioning again, but shifted to another topic. 

“Have you ever lied to me?” she asked.

“Never.” he answered. 

“How did you know to be in the places to help us?”

“Scrying...tea leaves...had you watched.” he answered.

Glinda bit back a sigh, and went back over the repetition. She knew now she needed to avoid that topic. A thought came to her mind, and the words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Who was she?”.

“Who?” Duran asked. 

“The lady you regret having the affair with.”

Duran struggled against his bonds, surging upward. Glinda stepped back, and sent a soothing aura over him. The man relaxed, but only slightly. She started over.

“Durandal, do you know who I am?” she asked.

“Glinda Arduenna Upland.”

“Do you care for me, Durandal?” she asked; a new question. He started but did not struggle.

“Yes.”

“Very much?” she asked, her voice lowering.

“Very...much.” he answered.

“Do you know who I am, Durandal?”

“Glinda Arduenna Upland.”

“Do you care for me, Durandal?”

“Yes.”

“Very much?”

“Very much.”

Glinda could not help it. Something in the back of her mind compelled her forward, forcing this path on her. It was not from the outside, but she was not in control of herself. Her next words were only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

“Do you love me, Durandal?”

The man strained against his bonds slightly. Glinda whispered only to him now.

“Do you know who I am, Durandal?”

“Glinda Arduenna Upland.”

“Do you care for me, Durandal?”

“Yes.”

“Very much?”

“Very much.”

“Do you love me, Durandal?” 

“Y...e...s.”

““Do you know who I am, Durandal?”

“Glinda Arduenna Upland.”

“Do you care for me, Durandal?”

“Yes.”

“Very much?”

“Very much.”

“Do you love me, Durandal?” 

“Yes.”

Glinda got crouched down so she was face to face with him.

“Did you love the lady you regretted having an affair with?”

“Yes.”

“What was her name?”

Duran bent his head low, but did not struggle. He did not seem to be fighting it; rather, he seemed resigned. Almost...broken. His lips moved, but Glinda did not hear it. Leaning forward, she whispered the question again. This time she heard the barest of whispers on his breath. It was there and then she caught a name.

Glinda shot straight up to her feet. She stared past the man at nothing, her breath racing. 

“Glinda?” Elphaba asked. “What did he say? Glinda?”

“What did he say, Glinda?” rumbled Nastoya. “I need my answers.”

When neither provoked a reaction out of the woman, they turned towards Duran.

“What did you say, Duran?” Elphaba berated. “What did you do?”

“What are you, beast?” asked Nastoya. 

Duran said nothing, but began to struggle against the magic that held him. With so much cooperation, the magic bonds had faded into nothingness. Now they shone like the sun, and burned him as if flame.Glinda had yet to break out of her reverie, and so the two continued to pepper Duran with questions. Coming to, Glinda saw the state he was in.

“Stop.” she said evenly, if possibly weakly. When they did not hear her, she spoke more forcefully. “Stop.”

“I need answers!” Nastoya hissed back. “What are you that your spirit is weak?”

“How did you achieve the binding of spirits?” Elphaba asked.

The smell of burning flesh, the shouted questions, the flicker of flames and darkness, the heat of the room all assaulted Glinda’s senses. What cut through it all was the gasp of pain from Duran at her feet. The world cleared for her at that moment.

“I SAID STOP!” she commanded, and thrust her staff into the earth. 

An explosion of light, sound and wind erupted from it. The guards were blown off their feet and sat dazed. The exits were torn from their ribbons and lay open. A trumpet of noise erupted followed by a crashing to earth. Nastoya’s transformation was undone, and her true form was revealed. In the deafening silence, Glinda calmly added,

“And I meant, stop.”

Duran glanced up at her, clear eyes now of the spells around them. He hesitated for a moment, and then sprinted from the tent. Glinda sighed. Nastoya glared at her, but the witch met her gaze.

“You have enough of your answers.” Glinda levelled at her. “Neither you nor your people shall pursue this matter, nor Durandal, further. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes.” she rumbled after a moment.

“Good.” Glinda answered. Pushing her hair back from her face, she continued. “Now, I'm going to find him. Your people shall stay away from him.”

“I’ll go with you.” Elphaba said, and went to her. A firm hand held up stopped her.

“Thank you, but no. I shall deal with the matter on my own. I will collect his effects and go to him.”

“Glinda you can’t-”

“Can’t what, Elphaba?” Glinda's hard voice cut her off. “You have no such say in my business.”

Elphaba, for one of the few times in her life, bit her tongue. Glinda looked to have none of it, and pushing would not help. She had seen this Glinda before, usually in politics. Elphaba knew there would be nothing good come of trying to argue.

“You are right.” 

“Good. Now I go to collect his effects from the guards. I shall be back when I am.”

Glinda stepped out of the tent. She turned to the guard standing there.

“Two questions sir: where are my friend’s effects, and which direction did he go?”

* * *

Glinda found him sitting cross legged among the red-gold sea of grass. Dusk was near, inflaming the golden grass with the setting sun’s light. She floated the pack and weapons down next to him, and crossed in front. His eyes were closed, and his hands folded in his lap. By his breathing, Glinda could tell he was focusing on meditating. 

“Durandal.” she said. He opened his eyes with a wane smile. 

“Wynnessa always complained about me using her full name. I can see why.” he joked.

Glinda kneeled in front of him. She took his hands into hers, and looked into his eyes.

“I remember.” she said slowly. He nodded. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Tell me everything.”

And in the waning light and deep into the night, he did.


	6. No Time to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elphaba, Glinda, and Duran leave the Scrow encampment towards Kiamo Ko. It does not go smoothly.

The three left the Scrow encampment in a somber mood. Elphaba was displeased with the fact Glinda had insisted on Duran traveling with them. They had fought over it after her return that night, but she had let Elphaba know in no uncertain terms he would be coming with. Elphaba had hoped after leaving for separate sleeping tents the woman would change her mind, but she had not. Even though Duran had pointed out it would be easier for them to fly to Kiamo Ko, Glinda was insistent. So, as was much of the way, Glinda got hers. She even managed to somehow procure a small cart and mule for the supplies she managed to purchase. 

Duran drove the cart south. The trip would take longer but paths would be better there than towards the Kells. Yunamata and other tribes hunted closer to the Kells. Besides, they still had to go through Kumbrica’s pass. The women sat in silence in the cart. Both had much to say, but neither wanted to say it. Even Duran was silent, his unflappable cheeriness having faded. The monotony was only broken by the women casting the traveling spell on the cart and mule to make the trip easier.

By the second day they had taken to walking alongside the cart as it made its way. It helped them to stretch their legs and become accustomed to the hardship of the land. Both women had quickly recovered their traveling legs, aided by recovery draughts. Duran himself led the mule some of the time, more to stretch his legs than need increase his fitness. 

Trees grew from the landscape now. Passing south made their way along the Vinkus River. Staying to the east of it, they would turn west once the Disappointments came into view. By passing between the Disappointments and the Nether Hows, they hoped to keep their distance from any of the other Nations, or even from Ozians in general. The path they traveled was slightly overgrown, but worn enough for them to pass easily. As they made camp that night Glinda posed the question to Duran.

“How long until we get to the Pass?” she asked.

“Why ask him?” Elphaba snapped.

“Because I doubt you traveled the Vinkus much on foot.” was the sharp reply. Elphaba huffed.

“A few days.” he answered. “Once we’re through, we should be relatively safe.”

“How long should it take for us to get to Kiamo Ko from there?”

“A few more days; maybe a week. We are making good time.” was his reply. Duran’s head snapped around, searching for something. He suddenly dove to the women, pushing them behind the cart. “Get down!”

Spears whizzed past them. Duran gave a grunt of pain, followed by Elphaba. He pushed off the two women and spun, drawing the two pistols from his belt. Glinda felt the pistols discharge and her ears rang. Shaking her head, she drew her wand and looked around. There were a number of dark shapes moving towards them. Duran drew his sword with his left hand, and grabbed the spear in his torso with the right. Glinda let out a terrified squeak as he sliced the tip off and pulled the handle out. The evening light cast his blood in bright red relief.

“Take care of Elphaba.” He grunted. 

Glinda watched him charge out, covering ground faster than she could have ever thought possible. His flash sword flashed and several of the dark shapes fell before him. They closed on him, but his speed was impossible to match, his skill superlative. He killed them mercilessly, his strokes brutal and efficient. A group approached across the clearing towards the women, and only then did Glinda look down. She gasped.

Elphaba had taken a spear through the thigh. The woman was breathing hard, trying to control the pain, but Glinda could tell she was losing that fight. Glinda quickly cast the pain relief spell, helping her keep control. After that, she did not know what to do. Her hands hovered towards the shaft, but Elphaba swatted her hands away.

“Don’t! It’s close to the vein, if it didn’t hit it already.” she hissed.

“So what do I do?” she asked. 

Elphaba looked past her. Duran had intercepted the group that was coming towards them. Glinda now saw their markings. They were not Ozian assassins; they were Vinkuns. Some had the markings of Scrow; others she did not recognize. Either way, the group of ten warriors surrounded Duran holding swords, knives, and spears. One even carried a net. Duran spat something at them in a language Glinda did not understand. Whatever it was caused them to close on him. 

One again Glinda was awestruck at the monster the man was. He parried a spear, stabbed the warrior through the neck, flung the spear from his hands. It was not an idly toss; rather it pierced the stomach of the net wielder. Duran thrust, taking the next warrior before he could respond. He parried the next sword blow, rammed his sword through their stomach and turned him to block the spear thrust of another. He used the man's dead weight to drag the spear out of the way so he could kill the next. The other warriors stepped back, giving Duran space. That was the wrong thing to do as he advanced quickly, killing each as their comrades were too far to help them. Ten warriors were dead in not even twenty seconds. Duran turned to scan the clearing.

“There doesn’t seem to be any more.” he said, calmly dropping his sword blade down on one warrior’s skull after another. Glinda winced at the sickening sound of their lives ending. After the final one was done, he asked, “How bad is she?”

“Bad.” Elphaba answered through gritted teeth. Duran walked over and hissed.

“Right.” he took a deep breath. “Well, how do we do this? Healing draught and pain draught?”

“Only way to.” was Elphaba’s answer. “Though if it’s hit the vein even then I might get a half an hour with the healing draught.”

“What do you mean a half an hour?” Glinda asked. “You’re not saying she could die, are you?”

“That’s exactly what we’re saying.” Elphaba answered darkly. “The healing draught will help me make more blood, but if I lose it too quickly it won’t matter. As you know, there’s only so much the body can produce so quickly.”

“So...what do we do?” Glinda asked.

“First, get the draughts ready.” Duran answered calmly. “We’ll cut the ends off the spear, like mine, and push it out.”

“How are you still up?” Elphaba asked. 

“Not as bad as it looks.” Duran answered. “Let’s get this surgery going.”

Glinda retrieved the pack with the potion supplies in it, and quickly went about making them. Duran took out two knives. He looked at Elphaba, who looked at Glinda.

“We ready?” he asked. Both women nodded their heads. “Okay, give Elphaba the draughts. After that, I’ll get the spear out. From there you will need to clean and get the wound bound. Okay?”

Glinda looked at Elphaba, and the green woman looked back at her. Both seemed to hesitate.

“We don’t have time for this.” Duran snapped at them. “We need to get Elphaba up and moving in case there are more on the way.”

“Drink, Elphie.” Glinda said, giving her the pain draught first. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

Elphaba nodded, and drank deep. Glinda replaced it with the second for the healing draught. As Elphaba gave it back to her, Glinda noticed her swoon. The pain draught was already making her woozy. 

“Good.” Duran said, and took out his knives.

He quickly cut off the extra of the spear, leaving only the part piercing her leg. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Glinda.

“Ready? Once it is clear, clean the wound and get ready to bind it.”

Glinda nodded. Duran inhaled, and yanked the piece out swiftly. Elphaba grunted even in her drugged state. Glinda quickly tapped the wound, cleaning the blood and anything else out. Duran eyed the hole before it began to fill. Taking some gauze from Glinda, he packed the wound with it and then helped her bind it. She looked at him.

“Now what?”

“Float her to the cart.” he ordered firmly. 

Glinda did not like the sound of his voice, but did as instructed. As she gently set Elphaba down, she glanced at the spreading red across the bandages. She was not a doctor, or knew much about the body, but that was far too much blood. Glinda’s heart felt the ice cold tendrils of fear. She quickly wiped from her eyes any tears starting to form and turned to Duran. Steeling her voice she said,

“What next? It seems she is losing a lot of blood.”

“It must have hit the vein in her leg.” he answered as he went to his pack. He began to dig around in it. “She’d have minutes to live if not for the healing draught you gave her.”

“No...you can’t be saying…”

“I’m saying she’s dying, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Glinda froze. Weak words escaped her,

“We can’t like, stitch it together or something?”

“No.” he answered, pulling out a cord from his pack. “We’ve neither the finesse nor equipment nor know how to do that.”

“So...she’ll just die? Too drugged up to know it?” Glinda's voice pitched higher. “Never saying goodbye? We’ll never..never…”

“I said there’s nothing you can do about it.” he answered as he came closer. “However, as we previously discussed, I’m a monster made to be bound to a master whom I protect.”

Glinda saw now what he held was not a cord but a tube of some sort. Each side had what looked like a needle attached.

“Because of that, my blood is made to be compatible with anyone else's.” he continued.

“So you’ll transfer your blood to hers? Will that keep her alive until she can make more of her own?” 

“If I was a normal person, no.” he replied. Glinda’s head whirled. “Fortunately for Elphaba, I am not a normal person.”

“The point, Durandal!” Glinda commanded. Duran smiled at her softly.

“Penchant for waxing on. As you might have noticed, Glinda, my blood does not look like your blood.” He said, and drew his shirt up. That is when Glinda realized that his blood had not been bright because of the waning sun; it was just vivid red. “My blood is highly oxygenated, which allows me to be stronger and last longer than a normal human.”

He stabbed one part of the tube into Elphaba’s arm. Her bleary eyes looked at him and she slightly protested. He located the vein in his own arm, and pierced his own skin. The light colored tube turned red as the blood passed from Duran to Elphaba.

“It also allows me to run on less of it. However, that is not necessarily a benefit here. What is most important is the one key factor you haven’t quite deduced.” he smiled and tapped his own wound. Glinda saw that it had clotted and sealed. “My blood clots faster and heals better than normal human blood.”

“Meaning that Elphaba’s wound will heal faster and she’ll live.” Glinda gasped in relief. Duran nodded.

“It would take about losing half her blood for Elphaba to die. Let’s say about five pints.” he smiled. “Now, the healing draught probably added about a pint of blood to her. The way she was, she was probably two to three pints down. Which is why we had to hurry. My blood is effectively three times better than normal people’s blood, meaning one of mine is about three of hers. So we’ll have to sit here for about ten to twenty minutes to make sure she is okay.”

“Oh thank Lurline!”

“Don’t blaspheme.” he replied. Glinda could not tell if he was serious or not. He sat next to Elphaba. “What I need you to do is unpack Elphaba’s wound. Counterintuitively, we need her to bleed more so my blood reaches the wound faster.”

Glinda nodded. She first cleaned the blood from the bandages, and then unbound the wound. By the time she had untied it, more blood had already spilled out. Glinda watched nervously, cleaning it away every few minutes. This action kept her from noticing the gradual change in color over the intervening time. It was only when she realized less was coming out did she look at it in contrast. It was now brighter like Duran’s own blood. Glancing at Elphaba, the woman had the purple hue of her flushed skin.

“Duran, Elphaba looks flushed. Is that a bad sign? Is she running a fever?” Glinda asked quickly. He smiled at her.

“Bright red blood, Glinda.” he answered calmly. “It will make her look flushed. Especially because she is taking so much of it. How does the wound look?”

Glinda tapped it. Only a trickle of blood came out now. She sighed in relief.

“Much better.”

“Excellent.” he said, and pulled the needle from his arm. Glinda watched as the wound clotted before her eyes. Pulling it from Elphaba, the same happened, though more slowly. “She should be fine. Now, let's pack and get going from this place.”

* * *

Glinda jolted awake. Elphaba stirred next to her on the cart. Glinda had tried to make her as comfortable but the road was still bumpy. Glancing at the woman, the violet flush was still present on her cheeks. The poor thing was covered in a sheen of sweat; Glinda guessed the heat of the Vinkus plus her natural temperature made the woman extra warm. She took a cloth and wiped the sweat from her brow. Hazy chocolate eyes opened.

“Glinda…” she whispered. “I…”

“Shhh, Elphie.” Glinda soothed her. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”

“No...too much blood…not much time...”

“It’s been almost a day, Elphie. You’ll live.” Glinda assured her.

“How?”

“Shhh….Sleep. We’ll talk when you're well.”

“Pain.”

“Oh!” she said. 

Glinda turned around but Duran had already slowed down. Glinda waited until they had stopped to start making the draught. Duran unhooked the mule and let it graze. As she made it, Glinda thought over the last day. They had left the area of the battle, but had not seen anyone following them. Duran had found a hollow tree to take shelter in, and hid the cart. The early night had seen them early to rise. A long day of bumping down the road had taken a toll, even with the frequent breaks. Now, after night had fallen, it did not seem Duran would change pace. 

Glinda finished the pain relief draught and handed it to Elphaba. The woman was still too woozy to take it. Glinda gently reached behind her to help her sit up, and slowly helped her drink it. After that she gently laid her down. While the wooziness would appear quickly, the pain relief portion would take a little while to kick in. 

Glinda took the time to stretch and relieve herself. Going back to the cart, she pulled out some food to munch on. A flash of light caught her eyes, and she turned. Duran had his sword out, and was moving through the motions. Where she once would have found that odd, she now knew he was refreshing himself for the coming day. Meditating in forego sleep. Glinda watched him as she munched through her food, finding beauty and brutality in the motion. He finally stopped and wiped his brow. He looked at her.

“Strange how now I know, I can see the difference in you.” Glinda mused. “You look more relaxed, less ready for action.”

“Perhaps it is merely your mind seeing what you wish to see?” he posited.

“No.” Glinda replied after a moment. “It is small, but perceptible. Normally, you almost vibrate with barely contained energy. It is only then you seem to be mortal, like the rest of us.”

“Were it true.” he smiled. “But we must go. Can you cast the traveling spell on the mule again?”

“Of course.” Glinda said. 

Glinda walked over to where the mule was grazing, and quickly cast the spell. Duran had followed her, and led the mule back to the cart. He hitched it back up. Glinda settled back into the cart. Pulling out a bottle, she sipped slightly. It was a sleeping draught, but the amount she took would just help her sleep rather than force her to. She lay next to Elphaba and closed her eyes as rest took her.

* * *

Glinda awoke. The moon hung bright over her. She did not know what woke her. She stayed quiet, and listened carefully for something. When it reached her ears, she realized it was singing. Duran singing. She had heard him sing before, and thought he had a pleasant voice. She settled herself to listen and go back to sleep.

“ _ Near Banbridge town, in the County Down _

_ One morning last July _

_ Down a bóithrín green came a sweet cailín _

_ And she smiled as she passed me by _

_ She looked so sweet from her two bare feet _

_ To the sheen of her nut-brown hair _

_ Such a coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself _

_ To make sure I was standing there.” _

Glinda’s brow furrowed at the words. The language and inflection was something she had never heard before. Unable to sleep due to her curiosity, she sat up.

“Oh, Glinda.” Duran said. “I apologize if I woke you.”

“It’s a lovely song. Can’t say I heard it before.” she answered. She checked Elphaba, and then deftly climbed up to sit near Duran. 

“It’s from a country outside of Oz.” he answered. 

“Which one?” Glinda asked. 

“It’s an island.” he answered. 

“In the Nonesetica Ocean?” she asked. He smiled sheepishly.

“Well, no.”

“Ah...from your other travels?”

“Yes.”

“Will you sing it for me?”

He smiled again.

“If you wish.”

“ _ Near Banbridge Town in the County Down _

_ One morning last July _

_ From a bóithrín green came a sweet cailín _

_ And she smiled as she passed me by _

_ She looked so sweet from her two bare feet _

_ To the sheen of her nut brown hair _

_ Such a coaxing elf, sure I’d to shake myself _

_ To make sure I was standing there.. _

_ From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and _

_ From Galway to Dublin Town _

_ No maid I've seen like the sweet cailín _

_ That I met in the County Down. _ ”

Glinda listened as he went on. It was a sweet love song about a man and woman. There were a lot of places and words Glinda did not understand, but the tune was easy. Unfortunately it was over quickly.

“Beautiful.” she said. “Do you have anymore?”

“I take requests.” he answered with a smile. She smiled back.

“Something I’ve not heard before. Something...not Ozian.”

“Another song of lovers, perhaps? A sad, sweet one?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“ _ By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes _

_ Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond _

_ Where me and my true love were ever won't to gae _

_ On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond…” _


	7. Out of Sync

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elphaba wakes up, but fills a bit out of sync with herself. She decides to talk to Glinda, as they are still out of sync too.

Elphaba awoke. She did not know how she did, but she did. Her first thought was that the pain brought her back. However, as she moved, she realized it was bad, but not so much as to wake her from a fever-sleep. That is when Elphaba realized she was hot; hotter than she should be. The green woman sat up. Wiping her brow first, she carefully opened her dress and pulled it from her shoulders. The night air of the Vinkus was still hot, but the sweat on her skin cooled her.

“Awake I see.” a man’s voice said. 

Elphaba turned towards the man approaching the cart. By his side was a woman she would have known anywhere. Her mind slowly cleared and she realized who they were. Duran and Glinda. Both had firewood in their hands. Elphaba glanced around, and noticed the Great Kells were on the wrong side.

“We made it through Kumbrica’s Pass?” she asked.

“Yesterday.” Glinda answered. “You’ve been in and out for awhile now.”

“Healing and sleeping draughts?” she asked.

“Sleeping; and only halves. The healing supplies ran out a few days ago. Besides, you do not need them.”

Elphaba gingerly slid from the back of the cart. Her body groaned from the stiffness of days lying there. The pain was bad, but manageable. She tested her leg. Weak, but it would come back quickly. As she started to move the strength came back to her body. Strangely, too much so. Elphaba had been wounded severely before, and knew she should still be weak. And she was still burning up. Taking a deep breath, the woman cast a light water spell to put a cooling mist over herself.

And ended up soaked. Elphaba sputtered and dragged wet hair from her eyes. The light giggle from Glinda did not help matters at all. Glaring at the blonde, she wondered if she was so far off that her spelling ability was out of sync. Calling forth the flame to her hand, a spell she could never get wrong, it roared into being, an inferno not beckoned for.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” asked Glinda.

“My spells are much too strong.” she answered dreamily. Elphaba flicked her hand, and a large gust of air blew past them. “That was a light wind spell.”

“Strange.” Glinda answered, concern evident on her face. She placed the firewood down and walked over to Elphaba. The blonde put a hand on her head. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m always hot.”

“No, it’s more than usual.” 

Whatever Glinda kept saying Elphaba paid no mind. The blonde woman was so near to Elphaba she could feel the heat off her. Not just the heat, but the smell of the woman was something comforting that Elphaba had missed. Something she had not known she had missed until- 

“Whoa, whoa! Elphie, what are you doing?” Glinda’s surprised voice came back to her. Elphaba realized she was leaning down towards the blonde.

“Uh...I felt light headed.” she covered quickly. Glinda was not buying it.

“That was not what it looked like.”

“Uh. Sorry. My head is really foggy. You just seem so...uh…”

“Intoxicating?” cut in Duran’s voice with a smile. Elphaba was glad to look away from Glinda, and took a step back. 

“Yes.” she answered slowly. “How did you know?”

He chuckled lightly.

“Come on, ladies, I know this high magic is new to you, but you’ve got all the pieces there.”

“What?” Elphaba said. Her mind ground forward for a moment, then said, “My magic sight. It uses all the senses. But I’ve pulled it back almost completely, so why?”

“You said your magic is off. That’s probably why.” Glinda answered. Looking at Duran she realized he was waiting for more. “But why it is off is the question we should be looking for.”

“Getting there.” he prodded. 

“I’ve been drugged in a sleeping coma for a few days after nearly dying, that could be it…” Elphaba mused out loud.

“Your magic is infused in your blood.” Glinda dropped in awe. Elphaba turned.

“Mine? Well, yes, but-”

“Durandal’s.”

Elphaba looked at the man. He had a big smile on his face. Her eyes slowly opened.

“You can only do magic that has been woven into you.” Elphaba said in slow realization. “And you did a blood transfusion. I thought that was a dream.”

“No, it was real.”

“You could have killed me!” Elphaba admonished. “Blood transfusions are not often successful!”

“Yes, but my blood is able to go to anyone without issue. And that’s how you lived.”

“And it is better: holds more oxygen, clots faster.” Glinda added. Elphaba turned to her. “Had this conversation when you were bleeding out.”

“Clots faster. Heals faster.” Elphaba mumbled. She looked back at Duran. “That’s why I didn’t die. Your blood. But that can’t be. The amount…”

“Was quite more than I even let Glinda know.” answered Duran. “You’d lost nearly three pints by the time of the healing draught; it stymied the loss long enough for me to transfuse five more into you.”

“Five...I should have died. You would have died. ”

“You would have died if I was a normal person with normal blood, even that amount. I would have died. But I am not.”

“And your magic is in your blood…” Glinda continued. “And your blood is now in Elphaba.”

“A lot of it.” Elphaba added. “And if that blood has a magical effect, it is now in me.”

“Temporarily.” he said with a smile. “But yes.”

“Is that why my magic is so much more powerful? And Glinda smells…”

“Alluring?” Duran answered.

“Well...yes.” Elphaba looked down, her cheeks violet.

“But I don’t have any spells on me.” Glinda rebutted. “She shouldn’t be able to sense any magic.”

“If it was only the magic sight, I would agree.” he smiled. “But I have a lot more senses than that. Aura sense, for instance. I can see people’s auras, and magical users are much more vibrant than non.” 

“Do you have something that enhances your magic?” Elphaba asked. Duran shook his head.

“No. That is strange, but I’ve never transferred so much blood to a magic user before, nor one of such power.”

“And Elphaba is half-Ozian.” Glinda added. Duran looked at her.

“She’s what?” 

“Half-Ozian. Her father is not from Oz, but the other world.” 

“Glinda!” Elphaba chastened but Glinda waved a hand at her.

“That would explain a lot of things.” Duran nodded. “Half-Noneseticans have great power in Nonesetica. Something about the other world’s low amount of magic, and this one’s high amount. Probably because the fact that anyone who travels here from their world must have a large amount of magic to do it.”

“You say that as if you met more.” Elphaba asked cautiously. Duran nodded.

“They’re few, but there have been some. And before you ask: they’ve not been of different colors. I do not know why your skin is the way it is.”

“Could these changes be permanent?” Elphaba asked. Duran shrugged.

“I don’t know. As I’ve said, I’ve never transferred so much to someone, or someone like you.”

“I just feel so...restless. Like I need to do something.”

“That’s probably the spell that keeps me awake. It makes you feel energized all the time.”

“Well that’s nice.”

“Yeah, but we need to work on your meditation.”

“Yeah, meditation has never been my thing. I’ll pass.” Elphaba shrugged, and turned back to Glinda.

“Well, it’s going to become your thing; unless you feel like going mad over the coming week.” Duran retorted cheerfully. Elphaba turned back to him.

“Mad?”

“Yeah. Remember the whole ‘legendary knights lose their minds’ thing? Guess who is going to have to deal with that now.”

“But...for how long?” Elphaba’s face narrowed. Glinda thought she was pouting. Duran shrugged.

“I don’t know. Probably at least a month. Most likely you won’t know it ends until you get tired and fall asleep.”

“That seems inconvenient.” 

“Make sure to get mortally wounded at a better time, then.”

Glinda let out an unladylike snort and tried suppressing her giggles. Elphaba glared down at her. 

“And what’s so funny?”

“You, acting like a petulant child at being told you have to meditate for thirty minutes a day so you don’t have to sleep the next month. Elphaba at Shiz would have worn pink for that opportunity.”

“Har har.” Elphaba replied. Then, she sighed. “You’re right, but I just  _ don’t want to _ . I feel like there’s so much else to do.”

“Like what?” Glinda retorted. “We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere going to Kiamo Ko. Do you have, like, an appointment with a Duck or something?”

“Alright. Let’s just get on with it.” Elphaba grumbled. Duran smiled.

“Okay, come with me then.”

“We can’t do it here?”

Duran’s smile grew wider.

“Glinda is a bit too distracting to help you meditate.”

Elphaba scowled at him. Glinda raised an eyebrow. Needless to say, the pair walked away from camp. Glinda could not help but call after her.

“Elphie? You may want to pull your dress back up.” she paused. “Or not. Your call.”

A loud swearing was heard from the retreating green woman, and the black clad dress went back up over her shoulders. Glinda chuckled to herself as she finished making camp. 

* * *

“Can I talk to you?” Elphaba asked. Glinda looked up at her. The green woman had her hands clasped together, but they were still nervously fidgeting. 

“Sure. Did you want to do it here or…?”

“Somewhere a little away from the fire.” Elphaba responded. Glinda nodded and stood. Walking a dozen paces away from the fire, Glinda stopped.

“What is it, Elphaba?”

“I want to...talk.” 

“I surmised as much when you said that.” Glinda paused. “About what?”

“About...us.” Elphaba answered hesitantly. Glinda’s eyebrows rose.

“What exactly about us?”

“We haven’t been getting along since...well...that time.”

“You mean when you left with Fiyero from the Emerald City?”

“Yeah. I know it wasn’t the right way to do things, and it was complicated, and everything, but I don't want there to be this gulf between us.”

“The gulf didn’t start then, Elphaba.” Glinda answered quietly. “It started when you brought Fiyero back. When you kissed him in front of the entire Emerald City.”

Elphaba winced.

“Yeah, I know-”

“And you know,” Glinda interrupted Elphaba, her voice quivering slightly, “I could get it. I could have understood that with Fiyero back things would be different. Really, I could. Even though I was all in after choosing you as a partner. Something I did not do lightly-”

“Glinda, I-”

“I could have stepped back and let you two be together, and we could have saved all of...this!” Glinda waved her hand angrily. “If you would have just told me. But you didn’t. You just slowly withdrew from me. And maybe if you had been obviously affectionate with Fiyero, it would have worked. But you didn't, you weren’t really any more affectionate with him. So I had no idea what was going for months as we played the ‘who will she choose, oh and also, she might die’ game.”

“I’m sorry-”

“And then, after all of  _ that _ ,” Glinda kept on, giving a nervous laugh, “you left with him. And I get it. But it feels like you wanted to forget that year between us, and you got your happily ever after. Which I can’t tell you  _ how happy I’m for you _ . Really, it makes we want to explode in joy sometimes but it also wrapped up in this immense pain that makes me feel like I was just a stopgap, and  _ used _ . And that’s why this is here. Yes, I hate the fact you tend to think me helpless and always need rescuing, but then again, the track record isn’t exactly completely wrong there. Or you think I make bad decisions, like we're still at Shiz. But I can get over all of that easily enough if I didn’t feel like I was just used and then discarded as a second choice.”

Glinda took a deep, shaky breath.

“So that’s why there’s a gulf between us. Not because things got messy, but because of making me feel like you were ashamed of our relationship. Ashamed of being with me.”

“Glinda I was never ashamed of being with you.” Elphaba contested

“Have you told Fiyero?” she asked pointedly. The other woman looking away gave her the answer. “I thought so. Why not?”

“Well...it just seemed…”

“Easier?” Glinda supplied. “Since no one out here knows we had a relationship, it’s easier to let Fiyero believe it never happened? That you never took a partner after him?”

“Yes.” Elphaba agreed after a moment.

“And that’s why we have this gulf between us.” Glinda said with finality. “You did not do right by me, Elphaba Thropp. It is forgivable because you did not do it out of malice, but it does not mean the wound is not deep. In fact, it would not hurt so much if it was of malice, as it would not have to be forgiven.”

“So what can I do?” Elphaba said. “You are right. I was confused at the time, and didn’t know whether I was going to live or die and then there was all things about money and titles and politics and it was all just so confusing and stressful. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t know I was hurting you. I knew, somewhere, but I did not want to face it. I thought maybe if I didn’t everything would work out. Maybe you would stop caring for me so much, or Fiyero, or I’d be killed and that would solve that. But none of that happened. And I hurt you, and I’m hurting Fiyero too.”

Elphaba looked at her again.

“So what do I do?” Elphaba pleaded, hands out to her. “How can I fix things?”

Glinda shook her head.

“I don’t know how, Elphaba. Other than time.”

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?” she asked weakly. Glinda paused a moment.

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, Glinda.” Elphaba said, and her body started shaking. Her hands darted to her face to cover it as she tried to hold in her sobs. “I’m just so, so sor-sorry. I n-never want-ed any of this. I d-don’t want t-to lose y-you. Y-your my be-be-best friend.”

Glinda could never see Elphaba hurting and not comfort her. She stepped forward and wrapped Elphaba in a hug. The blonde gently shushed the woman.

“You’re not going to lose me Elphaba. I know you didn't mean it, and I know you're sorry. But it will take time.”

The green woman sobbed onto her friend's shoulder. Glinda stroked her hair. Despite all the tangled emotions and pain, Glinda still knew Elphaba meant well. While it would be a while since they healed, they would heal. Whether as close or not was yet to be seen. Elphaba’s breathing slowed.

“Let go of me, Glinda.” came her voice, deep and stern.

“What?” Glinda recoiled, and let her go. “Elphaba, what is going on?”

“Step away from me. Please.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Please! I don’t want to do anything stupid!” she begged.

Glinda blinked. Her mind rewound.

“Oh!” she scooted back several more paces. “How is that?”

“B-better.” Elphaba said, and sat on the ground. She folded her legs and hands, and started taking deep, slow breaths. After a minute, she opened them and gave Glinda an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I completely forgot.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you feeling...better? More in control?”

“Yeah.” Elphaba nodded. “It was close there. Once you touched me it washed everything else away. Took me a moment to realize what happened.”

“Guess sleeping next to you in the cart is out.”

“Probably because I won’t be sleeping.”

“Oh yeah.” Glind sighed. “Well, that’s at least one thing.”

“Yeah.”

Both women looked at each other. Their faces were taught, both exhausted from the moment. 

“Shall we get back to the fire?” asked Elphaba.

“Probably a good idea.”

* * *

The trio made their way across the drawbridge of Kiamo Ko. Both the Witch Guard and Fiyero’s personal guard turned out for them. Some eyed Duran skeptically, but most seemed to assume he was part of Glinda’s retinue. Duran gave them no reason not to, easily slipping into the role. Elphaba, for her part, was jittery. She had made up her mind to come clean to Fiyero. The fact the man was coming to her now was probably the issue.

“It’s so good to see you both safe.” he said with a big smile. The two witches smiled tiredly at him. “It looks like you had it rough. I don’t know why you didn’t fly here.”

“There were...complications.” Glinda said. Fiyero nodded.

“I thought as much. Anyway, let's get you both in the house. There’s a big bath with your name on it, Glinda.”

“You always were such a dear.” she smiled at him. Fiyero still was charming. Her smile fixed one her face as he wrapped an arm around Elphaba. 

“Come then.”

“Fiyero…”she heard Elphaba grumbled and rolled her shoulders. Glinda’s heart sank.

“What? Are you hurt?”

“No...well, I was but I’m fine. I just…”

“What?”

“It’s…”

Glinda silently prayed to whomever could answer that she would not do this here. Not in front of everyone in the courtyard. 

“What?” he asked, stopping to look at her. She shrugged his arm off.

“I’m just feeling a bit warm and claustrophobic right now.”

“You look flushed.” he frowned and put a hand on her head. “You’re really warm.”

“Just stop!” she said, giving him a gentle shove. Fiyero stepped back, wide eyed. He took another step back, hands up.

“I’m sorry, Elphaba. I’m just concerned.”

“I know, but I can...I can...take care…” the woman started swaying.

“GLINDA! COOLING SPELL!” Duran shouted at her side. Glinda jumped and pointed her parasol. It started transforming. “FIYERO! BACK UP!”

“Wha-” was all he got out when Elphaba flared up. 

She was surrounded by fire. Unfortunately, it was not the heatless version where she disappeared. It was honest fire. Glinda’s wand finished and a blast of cold water vapor hit the woman and kept it on her until the flames died. The green woman had crumpled to the ground in the ensuing blaze. Duran moved over to her quickly. The guards were coming over, weapons drawn. Fiyero moved forward. 

“Fiyero!” Duran said. “I need three things from you. One, back up!”

“But-”

“She does that again and we won’t be having a conversation, okay!” he snapped. The man nodded his head and stepped back.

“But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about it. Two, get them to relax.” he said. Fiyero swiveled his head and saw the guards approaching. He motioned his hand downward, and they lowered their weapons. Pushing his hand out, they moved back.

“Three?” Fiyero asked.

“We need a room with little flammable objects and some place to lay Elphaba.”

“I know the place. What is going on?”

Duran bent down and scooped Elphaba into his arms. Fiyero eyes flashed but the man held his composure. Duran flicked his head towards Glinda, who came to his side.

“Let’s walk and talk.” he answered the Crown Prince. Fiyero nodded, and led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter! 
> 
> Elphaba lies around like a bum while Glinda tries to fix her. And a surprise appearance!


	8. New Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glinda acquires a new talent and a surprise guest drops in.

Duran laid Elphaba down on the stone table. Looking around, he noticed that outside her lying place, there was nothing in the room.

“What is this place?” he asked. 

“Unused kitchen.” Fiyero answered. “What is going on?”

“Elphaba’s magic is out of control.” Glinda responded. Fiyero nodded.

“I know that’s happened before, but it’s usually when she is more emotional, and conscious.”

“Yes, well, some things happened that caused her magic to become amplified.” Glinda answered. “We thought she had a handle on it, but apparently she didn’t, or it’s gotten worse.”

“It’s gotten worse.” Duran said. “The magic is weakening, and as such it is falling out of balance.”

“Are you a...sorcerer friend of theirs?” Fiyero asked. “I’m not sure we’ve been introduced.”

“Many times, but that’s okay.” Duran smiled at him. “My name is Duran.”

“You’re the man from the trial.” Fiyero looked him up and down. “You look quite different.”

“Fashion moves fast.” was his pithy reply.

“So, what are we going to do?” asked Fiyero. Glinda shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, there’s really only two choices.” Duran told them. “And really, choice one comes before choice two even if we go with the second. The first option is to wait, and hope things stabilize. That means Miss Glinda will need to be here on hand, though, to make sure the magic doesn’t hurt Elphaba or someone else.”

“And option two?” Fiyero asked.

“We try to stabilize the magics so they degrade at the same rate.” Duran answered. “For that, we’ll need several things. I can make a list, but the first thing I need is paper and something to write with. And Miss Glinda’s assistance.”

“I can get you those things.” Fiyero nodded. He sighed, running a hand across his brow and over his hair. “And here I thought things would be more peaceful once you two got here.”

“Considering our track record Fiyero,” Glinda smiled tiredly at him, “you might as well wish for the moon.”

“Right?” Fiyero let out a tired bark of a laugh. As he moved to the door, he stopped for a moment to touch Glinda’s shoulder. “I’m so glad to see you safe, Glinda.”

“Thank you, Fiyero.” she replied, putting her hand on his. The man nodded, and moved on. After he left, she turned to Duran. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Pretty much what I told Fiyero. We wait for now.” Duran paused. “Option two is dependent on you. I never thought you would need it, but it looks like you will.”

“Need what?”

“The magic sight spell.” he answered. “It was to help Miss Elphaba learn finesse.”

“And I didn’t need it? It has helped make her powerful.” there was a hint of anger in her voice.

“You didn’t need it, as I figured you’d create something on your own soon enough.” Duran replied. “Like a certain combined charisma charm.”

“Oh; you realized.” Glinda replied shyly.

“Yes. Despite my mind fighting you, I still recognized what was going on. And I can say I’ve never seen them combined that way, or to such an effect.”

“Well, that’s something coming from you.”

“Thank you.” he smiled. “But now repeat after me: Odinae mora oron fenum neverum gemi.”

“You can’t cast it on me?”

“I am unable to cast-”

“Yes, yes. What was it again?”

“Odinae mora oron fenum neverum gemi.”

“Okay.” Glinda took a deep breath. “ _ Odinae mora oron fenum neverum gemi _ .”

Glinda saw a flash of light and swayed on her feet. She steadied herself after a moment and looked towards Duran. She quickly looked away. It was like staring into the sun, and the smell of steel, blood, and fire was cloying. Glinda took a step back, and everything began to fade.

“Heavens above and hells below, that was a shock. And you!” Glinda took a deep breath. “But it all went away.”

“You have to focus to refine it.” he answered. “Reach out-”

Glinda’s eyes glowed white. The brightness that was Duran came into view, as did Elphaba dimly. She twisted her mind and saw the brightness dim, and the colors swirl, but turned them until she saw the different colors mixing and turning.

“I count no less than a dozen different spells on you.” she cut him off. Duran whistled.

“Damn. That was quick.” he sounded impressed. 

Glinda was pleased at that. She glanced over at Elphaba. There was a strange similarity to Duran, but it flickered. The blonde witch moved closer. The different spells were there, but were unstable flames. Here they would gutter and die for a moment; there they would flare, engulfing an area. They rolled and roiled around her, each dancing in prominence and dimming. 

“You are right. They don’t seem stable.” Glinda nodded. “How do we change that?”

“Well, that’s the tough part.” Duran sighed. “I’m not certain. We could always recast the spells I have, but that may not work, or sit right. That’s why I asked Fiyero for the paper so we could get a list together to cast them. Even if we did that, then she would have to disenchant them or suffer the same fate as me.”

Glinda reached out her hand. One spell seemed to be failing to connect in it’s chain around the body. It was a swirl of purple and green. Feeling it, Glinda willed it to reconnect. The witch felt energy pour from her, and saw it link the two ends of the chain together. The spell band’s fluttering calmed itself. Glinda swayed slightly.

“Whoa.” Duran said at her side. “What was that?”

“I’m not certain.” Glinda responded. “I simply wished it was whole, and made it so.”

“You...glowed, and not in any spell I’ve seen before. It seemed more…”

“Elemental?” Glinda asked.

“Yeah.”

“I believe it was not a spell, but more the fundamental building blocks of magic.”

“Well, that’s new.” he stated. “Can you do it again?”

“I can try.” 

Glinda found a spell chain that was failing, and reached out again. She glowed with elemental light, willing the gaps to close. Glinda realized that she was not filling in those gaps, but was merely stretching the binds of magic to connect. It took a tremendous amount of elemental energy to do it, however. The blonde swayed on her feet again, and strong arms caught her.

“Easy there.” Fiyero said. She let the magic fade from her eyes and smiled up at his furrowed face.

“Thank you.”

“What was it you were doing?” he asked as she managed to steady herself.

“At first I thought I was filling in the chains of magic around her.”

“Chains? Like the ones that bound me before?”

“Yes.” Glinda nodded. “But these ones are failing, having gaps. I thought I was filling them in, but I’m really stretching them to connect.”

“That’s actually better.” Dura nodded. “If you can keep them stable as they weaken, they’ll go away eventually.”

“Yes.” Glinda nodded. “It is just...so taxing. And there’s so many to do.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, Glinda.” Fiyero warned. Glinda shook her head.

“I won’t. But there are so many yet to do.”

Glinda opened her witch sight again. Seeing another chain flailing, she stretched it again. She felt her knees weaken, but she pushed on. She was almost there….

* * *

Glinda came to staring at two concerned faces. Seeing both the men’s brows furrowed, she gave them a small smile and reached up to stroke their cheeks.

“Such handsome men to wake up to. How is a girl so lucky?” she whispered with all her strength. 

“You gave us a scare there, Glinda.” Fiyero answered seriously. “I think too much of Elphaba’s recklessness has rubbed off on you.”

“Isn’t it quite wonderful?” she replied. The echo of a conversation on the way to gallows brought a smile to her lips. Fiyero’s own twitched, but only for a moment.

“You can’t push yourself Glinda.” Duran replied sternly. “I know you want to help, but if you exhaust yourself there is no other sorcerer around; especially not one of your caliber.”

“My dear Durandal,” she said to him, causing him to start so slightly that if she had not had a hand on him she would have missed it, “just where is that dashing smile you never lose?”

“You know,” he retorted, the smile growing on his lips, “we’ve been meeting too much. I believe my roguish ways are starting to rub off on you.”

“And isn’t that quite wonderful?” she gave a light laugh like the tinkling of chimes. “But my dear boys, I am fine.”

“You need rest.” Fiyero urged.

“I concur with him.” Duran agreed.

“What I need,” Glinda replied, putting as much force into her voice as possible, “is for Fiyero to find me the Grimmerie.”

“What?” the man asked. “Why?”

“I know you know where she keeps it.” Glinda ignored his question. “Either you get it for me, allowing me to rest some moments more, or I go upend your bedroom, and hope I don’t see anything that might embarrass you.”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.” Fiyero retorted.

“Quite true. But let a lady rest, Fiyero.”

“You are too tired to do magic, Glinda.” Duran interjected. “I can see the dimness of your aura.”

“Yes, which is why I need the Grimmerie. Run along, Fiyero; the sooner you get it the sooner we can be along with this.”

Fiyero looked at Duran, who shrugged.

“What are the odds you think she’ll change her mind?” the shorter man asked. Fiyero laughed slightly.

“Not good. I’ll be back quickly.” Fiyero answered. Standing, he made his way out of the room. Glinda eyes followed him, and then looked back at Duran. 

“You know,” she said nonchalantly, “I’m embarrassed to say I just realized my head is on your lap.” 

“Fiyero caught the rest of you, leaving me to protect your head.” he responded.

“And you could not catch me before him, mighty warrior?” she teased. He smiled back.

“I am embarrassed to say I was a bit mesmerized watching you work, and did not notice you start to fall.”

“Men are all the same.” she sighed. “Show them a little bit of glamor and they are oblivious to the rest of the world.”

“Why do you need the Grimmirie, Glinda? You need to not push yourself.” Duran urged. “Especially considering your pregnancy.” 

She sighed.

“I am aware, Durandal. I need the Grimmirie because I am too tired. Its natural magic can be used as a font, of sorts.”

“And you plan to use it to help Elphaba?” 

“No.” Glinda sighed again. “It’s a font; magic flows from it like water flows down a river. But like a river that overflows will destroy it’s banks, if I take too much magic from it I will be destroyed.”

“So you will only take a little.”

“Just enough to send a message.”

“To whom?”

“You shall see. I do not feel quite like revealing that yet.”

“That’s fine.” he paused. “Do you feel good enough to leave my lap?”

“Why my dear Durandal,” she smiled mischievously up at him, “should I be worried?”

“Not in the slightest, Lady Glinda.” he teased her back. “It is just not proper for a lady to be in such repose on the floor.”

“Well, it is a good thing none shall see me as such.” Glinda giggled. “Besides, I shall like to rest while I can. So do be a good boy, and stay put.”

Duran snorted but did not move. Glinda sighed and closed her eyes. She felt the heat of his body through his clothes. It was tantalizing, for she was starved for affection. But no, he had made it clear there would be nothing between them. Especially because...but Glinda wondered. Reaching out with her mind, she saw the world light up behind her eyes. She felt the heat from him increase. It burned, but did not burn. She smelled smoke, and tasted copper on her lips. Glinda pushed and the light grew. It was almost there. Almost…

Glinda saw Duran’s concerned brow. His set jaw. Something was on his mind. His magic shifted around him. She saw the tenseness in his body, a coiled spring, relaxed but ready to leap into motion in an instance. The way he seemed to both encompass and be missing from the room at once. The vividly real and specterly faintness of his existence. She saw all this, her eyes never opening. 

“Why the smile?” he asked bemused.

“Hmm?”

“You have a smile on your lips.”

“And you have such a look of consternation.”

Glinda saw, but did not see, him open and shut his mouth.

“You can see my magic.”

“But also something else.”

“My aura.”

“Yes. It is there, underneath it all. So bright that I mistook it for your spells, but so faint I almost missed it.”

“How wonderfully talented you are.” he said. “Without instruction, you’ve been able to deduce how to refine your witch sight even further. And in such a short time.”

“It’s like opening your eyes to a room you’ve familiarized in the dark.” Glinda spoke, her voice slightly in awe. “I know everything I see, but I don’t. I’ve had to feel it out before.”

“Yes.” he paused. “To give it to you at your beginning would make you rely on it as a crutch. Now, however, it is merely an enhancement.”

“Fiyero’s coming.” she said, turning her head. “I can see him. It’s dim, but there still sits some magic in his blood from whence we brought him back.”

Glinda opened her eyes and slowly stood. Brushing herself and straightening her dress, she put on a strong face for Fiyero. Not that it was hard; she felt stronger now than she had ever before. Magic, ever intangible, felt real to her. Like she could stretch out and pull the strings of the world to play the chords she wanted to hear. It was exhilarating and terrifying. It would be too easy to slip into corruption or destruction with such power. Discipline and caution would need be her watchwords. 

Fiyero came through the door. Under his arm was a book she could never mistake before, and was glaringly obvious to her now. Fiyero still had a look of concern on his face. Glinda supposed she should tell him to ease his mind.

“Thank you Fiyero.” she said and held out her hand. He hesitated for a moment, before laying the Grimmerie in it. “I’m not doing anything foolish. Merely borrowing some of its power to send a message.”

“To who?” he asked.

“A friend.” Glinda answered. 

Clutching the book to her, she felt the power stream out of it. Like Elphaba during that dark day in the Emerald City, she let the power flow into her. Just a little. She strained to hold back the flood that wished to wash her away. Glinda gasped and dropped the book, stepping back. 

“Glinda?” asked Fiyero, hand out ready to catch her. She waved him away as she took a shaky breath.

“I’m fine. It’s like trying to sip from a rushing river. Easy to get too much.”

Glinda brought out her wand. It helped her focus. Taking a deep breath, she flicked it. A letter appeared. Tapping it, she examined the words that appeared. She jab the paper once. The letters rearranged themselves. Nodding satisfied, she flicked her wand again. The piece of paper disappeared in a bloom of light. Glinda tucked her wand away. Taking another deep, shuddering breath, she looked at Fiyero.

“A place to rest, preferably with a comfortable bed, would be nice.” she smiled. Fiyero saw deep lines of exhaustion had appeared on her face. He did not know where they had come from, but he had never seen her so worn. 

“Of course.” he looked at Duran. “Shall I escort him to your room as well?”

“Duran doesn’t need sleep.” Glinda replied, beating the man to the punch. Duran closed his mouth in a playful scowl.

“We have definitely been meeting too much.” he insisted. “You’re stepping all over my lines.”

“Perhaps you should take the time to think of new ones, if so little time together makes them run stale.” she retorted teasingly. Duran scowled even more, and she smiled. Turning to Fiyero she said, “If you lead the way, Fiyero.”

“Of course.” he said, extending an arm. She looped hers in his, and left the room. 

The Grimmerie lay where it fell.

* * *

Glinda woke to a commotion. She had not wanted to sleep so long, but her body needed it. Her mind first went to Elphaba, but she would have been woken if that were the case. Grabbing her wand, she conjured an outfit as she sped out the door. The sounds were coming from above the courtyard. The Flying Monkeys were chittering in alarm, circling the area. Glinda sped down the circular staircase. Near the open main door Fiyero was standing with his own guard. 

“Glinda-” he started but the witch blew past him. 

Striding into the courtyard, she shielded her eyes from the sun. The Monkeys were descending rapidly. Feet clattered onto the cobblestones behind her, followed by a pair of booted feet landing on the stones in front of her. The figure was cast in a cloak, obscuring her features as she dismounted the...oar? Was she riding a boat oar? Pulling the hood down away from the castle’s observers, a head of dark curly hair appeared. Rotating the oar to vertical in her hand, the figure turned and walked towards Glinda. The blonde witch noticed the other walking gingerly.

“Sarima?” asked Fiyero. The woman smiled.

“Crown Prince.” she curtsied. Fiyero bowed, finally remembering his manners.

“You can fly on a broom?” he asked in bewilderment.

“Sarima.” Glinda smiled, crossing the distance between the two.

“My Lady.” she smiled. The pair kissed each other on the cheeks. “You sent for me?”

“I did.” Glinda said, looping her arm in the other woman’s. “But not here.”

“Of course not.”

The pair walked past the astounded Flying Monkeys, Guards, and one Crown Prince. As they crossed the threshold of the castle, Glinda turned back to Fiyero.

“Are you coming?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

He nodded, and hurried to catch up.

* * *

“I see.” Sarima said, shifting in her seat.. They were in an adjacent dining room to the room Elphaba lay. The household staff had dutifully served them tea and some shortcakes. Glinda had realized she had not eaten breakfast or dinner last night and stuffed herself as quickly as proprietary allowed. “That is a very difficult situation.”

“It is.” Glinda agreed.

“But why call me? Surely Sh-” Sarima glanced at very Fiyero, “-omeone else with more skill would be useful.”

“Possibly.” Glinda paused to drink some tea. Sarima shifted. “But there were a number of factors that made me decide on you.”

“I see.” she replied, shifting again. Glinda could take it no more.

“Oh for goodness sake,” Glinda sighed, “just ask if there is something for soothing it.”

“I’m lost.” Fiyero interjected. Sarima shifted again, at least partially in embarrassment this time. 

“She’s saddle sore.” Glinda explained. She smiled wickedly. “Or oar sore.”

“No one thinks how riding such a thing for hours will feel.” she replied sheepishly.

“Why choose the oar to soar?” Glinda asked, looking at where it stood against the wall.

“It’s a cultural tradition.” Sarima looked away. Glinda noticed the barest hint of color on her cheeks. Glinda raised her enhanced witch sight to look at her aura. It showed the embarrassment in clear respite to her figure. How useful a skill to have. 

“Oh?” Glinda prodded playfully.

“Yes.” the woman answered. When the woman did not continue, Glinda thought that would be the end of it.

“Northern Vinkun shamans carry oars.” Fiyero explained gently. Sarima’s eyes locked on him. He did not waver. “By taking it, she is declaring herself one. The Garamana haven’t had a shaman in a generation. It will bring them much honor and attention.”

“Really?” Glinda smiled at the other woman. The embarrassment in her aura bloomed fiercely with a small light of pride almost hidden. “That would be a great thing for your people.”

“Thank you.” was the quiet voice. Her hair had fallen in front of her face, hiding it. 

“Their great personal deeds are etched into the oar in ritual marking, telling the story of their lives.” Fiyero continued. “Casting flight upon such an oar would be one such deed; perhaps the first in the tale of Sarima Hestan of Thage Kar.”

“While a great wish,” the woman almost whispered, “there are no shamans in the Garamana, and none of the north would do it.”

“Then an Arjiki will.” Fiyero nodded. Sarima shook her head. 

“Thank you, Chieftain of Kiamo Ko, but it must be of the north.”

“Then I shall find one who will.” there was a conviction to Fiyero’s voice that Glinda knew well. “I swear to you as the future Chieftain of the Arijiki, an ally to the Garamana, and your once betrothed.”

Glinda sat enthralled at the scene in front of her. Their auras were shining with such beauty she had never seen. Pride, conviction, embarrassment, affection. That was  _ quite  _ interesting. Affection between the two, something more than simple acquaintances. Perhaps friends; perhaps more? Now that was something of great interest. 

Glinda saw them both almost simultaneously realize they had looked at each other for too long. Embarrassment bloomed in them, overriding the other emotions. The colors were absolutely mesmerizing. Sarima looked at Glinda, and Fiyero coughed. Glinda realized she probably should say something at this point.

“I chose you, Sarima,” Glinda continued, “because of your proximity, currently residing in Thage Kar, means you would get here quickly. You also know the people here, and would not draw extra attention or set them at unease. And finally, I’ve been remiss in your education.”

Glinda did not tell her that of all the Adepts, she determined Sarima to be the least threat. The woman was just on her way to magic, and though she successfully cast the flight enchantment, the spell had dissipated from the paper afterwards. There was very little chance for her to betray them for her own ends. Especially when Glinda held the key to something Sarima desperately wanted. 

“My education?” Sarima asked in disbelief.

“Her education?” Fiyero asked in suspicion.

“I do believe I said I would instruct you in sorcery.” Glinda took another sip of tea. “As I do not know how long we will be here, I can instruct you and you can learn while assisting me as well.”

“Oh!” 

“Yes.” Glinda stood. “Please follow me. We have much business to attend to.”

“Of course.” Sarima stood, wincing slightly. Glinda sighed and gestured with her hand. Sarima pulled a face.

“That felt strange.”

“I’m sure. But we can’t let a pain in the rear distract you.” Glinda set her face in determination. Walking to the door, she waited for Sarima to meet her. After the woman was a step behind, Glinda walked through. Duran sat cross legged in one corner of the room, watching them as they entered. She nodded to him, and he returned it. 

Glinda picked up the Grimmerie from where it had fallen and tucked it under an arm.

“Let’s get started.”


	9. Fate's Tight Weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is coming together, and not in ways Glinda likes....

In the first week of Elphaba’s coma, a routine quickly established. Glinda would check on her in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Often she would stretch a magical chain to wholeness. Otherwise, she would check the strengths of the spells. Though faint, they did begin to fade. Afterwards, she would instruct Sarima in the basics of sorcery. The woman was not a natural, but then again neither was Glinda. Both student and teacher learned best by repetition. So Glinda instructed, and Sarima practiced. 

During that time, Duran never left. The man understood he knew best what was happening with Elphaba, and could not leave. However, being neither witch nor Vinkun, he was constantly out of place. Not that it made him feel out of place; just that everyone was painfully aware how out of place he was. Especially since he took to practicing his sword work in the courtyard at sunrise. His speed and skill made the Vinkuns nervous.

And so Kiamo Ko fell into a strange routine. Vinkuns tried to either avoid witches practicing magic, or the strange man practicing sword work. During other times of the day, either witch or swordsman would appear with little warning and a charming smile. They were friendly specters that while never doing anything malicious still set the residents of the castle on edge.

There was also Elphaba. Tended to by Glinda and Fiyero, they pair made sure all her needs were taken care of. A healing draught combined with a thick froth of eggs, milk, and honey kept the woman nutritioned. Pillowing and movement helped reduce the chance of bedsores. Finally, a good cleaning spell took care of the rest of the possible issues. There was no better care to be done for the woman.

The green woman was not an idle sleeper. She tossed and turned, often muttering in her sleep. Occasionally, that muttering turned out to be spells. Glinda was hurriedly called and helped put things right. Otherwise, her temperature remained steady if not the pained look on her face. Glinda often found Fiyero in the room watching her; the Crown Prince often found Glinda doing the same.

Near the end of the first week, Glinda found another curiosity. The blonde had to take frequent naps not only due to the strain of stabilizing the spells but also due to her on marching pregnancy. Something that would be soon apparent as she was over four months in. However, rising from one of those naps, she went to find Sarima to continue her lessons. The blonde found her; more interesting, she found her in the company of one Crown Prince. The two were talking in low voices so she could not hear. The blonde witch smiled and decided a further nap would be in order.

Later that day, Fiyero approached her. Glinda looked up from the book she was reading in bed. Fiyero went to say something, then stopped.

“Since when do you wear glasses?” he asked. 

“Since I’ve hit thirty.” she replied. Indeed, there were some very stylish swept wing glasses with small rhinestones in a silver wire frame on her face. Looking over them, she blinked at Fiyero. “What can I do for you, Fiyero?”

“Do you mind if we have a conversation?” he asked. Glinda’s veins ran cold.

“Sure. About what?” she asked in a calm, intrigued voice.

“Duran.” he answered, pulling up a chair. Glinda let out an inward sigh of relief.

“Ah. What about him?”

“He’s perplexing.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to think or say so.”

“Him being here is perplexing.”

“Ah. Is that it? You don’t know why he’s stuck around, and are too polite to ask?”

“No.” Fiyero smiled. “If he’s here, there’s a reason he is here, and I’m guessing that reason is you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I remember the conversation when my parents came to the Emerald City. A certain swashbuckler, eh?” he prodded. Glinda huffed.

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

“And I believe you.” Fiyero answered. “But I’ve had my men watching him; I’ve been watching him. The man doesn’t sleep.”

“I believe I told you that the first day he was here.”

“Yes, but I thought it was a joke.”

“It was not.” Glinda gave him a long look. “Durandal is a very...unique individual.”

“He’s a dangerous one.”

“More than you could ever realize without seeing him in action.” was Glinda’s reply.

“What am I supposed to do with that information?” snapped Fiyero. “I’m supposed to protect this castle. How can I protect it from someone like him?”

“The same could be said of me.” Glinda replied seriously. “Fiyero, I could probably level Kiamo Ko if I so wished. I could certainly wreak havoc on the guards here. Elphaba as well. Why do you not fear us the same way?”

“I know you. I don’t know him.”

“Durandal is bound to us.” Glinda answered. Thinking that over, she clarified, “Not literally, but in course of action. He has never betrayed us, and has even pulled us out of dangerous situations before. He will not pose a danger to you or the Vinkuns if you do not pose a danger to us.”

“How soon until he goes on his way?” asked Fiyero. “Or is he to become a permanent fixture?”

“Nothing so much.” Glinda shook her head. “He would have left us already if Elphaba had been up and around. He only followed us into the Kells and beyond because I wished it so. And a good thing I did.”

“He makes me uneasy.” Fiyero admitted. Glinda could tell he was uneasy with that admission. “There’s something about him that feels off.”

“Durandal is…” Glinda paused, not sure how to explain it. “Durandal is a man who has been made to be a weapon. Like any weapon, you may become comfortable around it, but you are always aware it is dangerous. He is the same.”

“I have concerns about all of that.”

Glinda reached over and stroked his face.

“Concern yourself with Kiamo Ko, and it’s people, dear Prince. Concern yourself with Elphaba. Push concern for Durandal to the back of your mind. It will do you no good either way.”

Fiyero sighed and stood.

“I do trust you Glinda. And that’s the only reason I can bear this.” he said. 

“I know, and I thank you.”

* * *

Early the next week, the man in question pulled Glinda aside after her morning check on Elphaba. Entering a small room where they would not be disturbed, Glinda waited for Duran to speak.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Glinda.” Duran started with no preamble.

“I’m doing what I think I need to do.” Glinda replied. There was no use trying to lie to him on the subject. He could see her aura.

“You’ll not help Elphaba bedridden.” he retorted. “You’re weakening fast. The elemental energy is draining you. You need to slow down.”

“The spells need to weaken evenly.” she countered. “No one can do that but me.”

“And who can create a recovery draught, or clean Elphaba?” asked Duran. “If you put yourself into a bed, her state will decline quickly.”

“I will be fine.” Glinda replied forcefully. “I know what I’m doing.”

“What you’re doing is overstretching yourself when you should be thinking about your children.”

Glinda narrowed her eyes.

“I will not have you criticize my choices when it comes to my children, Durandal.” she replied icily. “I know how best to care for them.”

“Your children need a healthy mother.” he rebutted. Glinda opened her mouth but he cut her off. “Physically and magically. Do you think two witches of that magnitude are only fed by physical nutrition? They need magical energy to draw on to further their own growth.”

“And just how in whatever hell there is would I know that?” snapped Glinda. “It’s not like magically induced pregnancies are common!”

“Well, they do.” he said, dodging her question. “And you need to rest. No more elemental magic more than once a day.”

“I will do what I feel best.” Glinda answered with finality.

“At least stop tapping into their power, then.” he urged.

“What do you mean?” Glinda asked.

“Part of the magic you’re pulling from is from them.” he paused. “You didn’t notice?”

“How in the-”

“Yes, yes. Magical pregnancies are uncommon.” he waved a hand. Some part of Glinda noted this was the first time she had ever seen him frustrated. “You need to make time and sit down with me so we can cover these things. I’ve been relying on your skill to deduce things I shouldn’t have.”

“Fine. Sometime later today.”

“Sounds fine.”

* * *

Glinda did not make time to sit with Duran that day. Or the next. It was the third day of that week when Glinda came storming into the room he had been using to store his belongings. Duran was calm in the face of the storm he knew was coming.

“You told Fiyero!” she yelled at him.

“I did.” he replied evenly.

“How could you?” she spat. “It was not your place.”

“You kept avoiding me.” he answered. “You knew if we spoke about what you are doing to your body you would have to stop.”

“And that gives you the right to let him know?”

“What right of yours am I violating, Glinda? Letting Fiyero know you are endangering not only your health, your children’s health, but also Elphaba’s?” he shot back. “He has a right to know since he is in a relationship with her.”

“You had to twist that knife.” she hissed. “You’re a right bastard, you know that?”

“Of course I am.” he agreed. “I thought that was clear long ago. But what you are, Glinda, is going to get yourself, your children, and Elphaba killed if you don’t slow down.”

He moved, circling to one side. Glinda felt something then she had only ever seen him do in others; prey fear. This was Duran as the super predator he was. All her instincts shrieked in warning. Glinda was not a coward, and had stared down danger before. She did not shy away from him or his gaze.

“You’re being reckless with your health.” Duran said, slow and deliberate. “You’re aura has waned considerably. How many hours are you sleeping now? Don’t answer; we both know you sleep as many as you’re awake.”

He moved the other direction.

“You’re being reckless with your children’s health. Their auras have dimmed slightly. Not only that, but you’ve begun to lose weight. Others haven’t noticed yet, but I can tell. You’re not eating because you sleep too much.”

He paused. 

“And you’re being reckless with Elphaba’s health. Yes, she needs your help to stabilize the spells, but there’s still a ways to go before they degrade completely. If you wear yourself out now, you will not be able to even stabilize them as they start to fail more.”

“You always have to get your way, don’t you?.” Glinda hissed.

“Do you think I wish to be here, or in this situation, Glinda?” he asked.

“You seem to like to be at the center of things, pulling all your strings.”

“I purposely stay out of the way unless  _ called _ into them.” he retorted. “As you well know.”

“Staying in the shadows does not mean you’re not in the middle of it.”

“And when have I ever directed you anywhere?” he inquired. “At what point have I forced your hands? I’ve done nothing but help when able or called.”

Duran started to pace again. This time was different though; he was not the predator, but a worrier. Glinda watched him. There was something brewing in his mind. She knew he would speak when it came together.

“The skeins of fate weave tight around this moment.” Duran finally said. “I can feel them, almost binding. I despise that feeling, and wish nothing more to be away from it.”

He stopped and looked at her.

“But I am bound by those skeins as much as you are. I cannot leave here lest Elphaba come to ruin. And that would not do for many things, let alone just herself as a person.”

“You speak of these things as if they’re tangible.” Glinda prodded. “Can you show me how to see them as well as you?”

Duran barked out a sarcastic laugh.

“No. Part of the reason I can read the signs as well as I do is because I’m me. Besides, it would do you no good.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he replied, twinkle in his eyes and mirth in his voice, “too much depends on your movements; yours and Elphaba’s. It would give you almost no direction, or change immediately on your decisions.”

“I cannot say I like the sound of that.”

“I’m quite sure. But when fate decides to pick its favorites there’s not much you can do.”

“I suppose that is quite true.”

“But what you can do,” Duran’s voice returned to seriousness, “is rest. As well you should.”

“Fine.” was her exasperated answer. “But this isn’t done. I’m still not pleased with you.”

“I can live with that.”

Glinda huffed and left.

* * *

Unfortunately, Duran’s intervention was too late. Although Glinda stopped her bind stretching except for once a day, her body seemed to take the respite for time for rest. She grew weaker, and had to preserve her strength even more. Instead, she could only do one every two days. However, to Duran’s relief, she began to gain weight again and look healthier and more active. 

Fiyero had turned into a nursemaid, worrying over her. Glinda appreciated the sentiment, but it annoyed her. It annoyed her worse when Sarima also started treating her gently. Granted, the extra pillows and food was nice, but she was still a formidable witch in her own right. She bared it with grace, taking care of Elphaba, or teaching Sarima magic, more slowly than before. Glinda drew the line at getting a lady in waiting. Luckily, Sarima had helped many pregnant women in her tribe over the years, and knew what to do.

It was at the beginning of the third week, when Glinda checked on her, that everything started to go wrong. The spells had become more chaotic. Even Glinda’s stretching of one did little to affect it. Had she even chose to, Glinda did not have the strength to put more efforts into it. Calling for Duran, the man knew instantly the issues when entering the room. His face darkened.

“That’s not good at all.” he said.

“What do we do now? Recast the spells on her?” Glinda asked.

“No.” Duran shook his head. “There’s no way to cast them all together; they have to be layered. I don’t know what introducing more spell energy into the mix would do.”

“So what choice do we have?” asked Glinda. “I can see you have a plan.”

“Yes.” Duran answered hesitantly. “Remember how you used the Grimmerie as a font?”

“Yes, but that isn’t very controllable, especially with how tired I am.”

“I agree. However the idea is the same, it’s just the font is different.” he paused. “You will need to shunt parts of the spells on me to her.”

“What will that do you?” Glinda asked, concerned. Duran shrugged.

“They will weaken, but my spells have grown more powerful overtime. I’ll be able to deal with being weaker.”

“Okay.” Glinda gave a ragged exhale. “How do we do this?”

To that Duran shrugged.

“I’ve no idea.” he admitted. “That is witches’ work.”

“You want me to make it up?” Glinda exclaimed in disbelief.

“Less make it up. More...figure it out?” he replied sheepishly. “You’ve done it with the Grimmerie.”

“Sure. Because that’s the same thing.” Glinda huffed. Running her hands through her hair and fluffing it out, she took a deep breath. “Okay. Let me see here.”

Glinda opened up her magical sight on Duran. He shone like he always did. The spells that danced around him were strong and steady. Glinda reached out a hand for one and felt it burn. It was a pain of resistance, but also of power. She reached out her other hand to Elphaba, and found the same guttering spell on her. Taking a deep breath, she let the blazing power from Duran flow through to Elphaba. Just enough to steady that spell. Letting out a ragged breath, she looked at Duran with her own eyes.

“One down; a dozen more to go.” she answered.

“You look like you were in pain.” he stated. Glinda nodded.

“Imagine drinking too hot of tea that burns as it goes down. The feeling is much the same.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to do about it.” Glinda replied. “There’s no other way but to deal with it.”

Glinda slowly repeated the process. Each spell was agony, but each time she saw the spells dance a little less was enough motivation to move them along. By the fifth spell she wanted to sit and rest, but there was no time. By the eighth she was swaying on her feet. Glinda’s world narrowed past that. The only thing she saw was the colors of the spells. The only thing she felt was the pain. 

“That’s enough.” Duran’s firm voice cut in. “They’re done.”

The words seemed to snap Glinda back to reality. She collapsed like a marionette’s who’s strings had been cut. Luckily, Duran was there to catch her.

“Did it work?” she asked faintly.

“It did.” Duran answered. “They stabilized, and seem to be degrading equally. And much more rapidly. I would be surprised if they weren’t gone by tonight.”

“Good.” Glinda took a deep breath. “What about me? Did I hurt them in some way?”

Duran's face had hard etched lines on it. Finally, he spoke.

“No. They are quite well.”

“Good.” Glinda answered. Her world started to fade. “I...should...like...a nap...now.”

And the last thing she felt was being scooped up in strong arms.

* * *

Glinda awoke to the bright morning sun in her face. The birds outside were chirping; something she found highly annoying. What was not annoying was the green face in the chair next to her. Glasses barely hanging on to the edge of her nose, the woman was asleep with a book in her lap. Glinda smiled.

“I see you’re up and around.” she said softly. The woman jerked awake.

“Glinda! You’re awake.” Elphaba gasped in relief.

“And so are you.” Glinda playfully retorted. “I think yours is much more noteworthy.”

“I’ve been up for a couple of days.” Elphaba answered. The woman slowly pushed herself out of the chair. The strain in her face was evident. “You’ve been asleep for three.”

“Well, there’s no time for laying around then.” Glinda replied. Swinging her feet out of bed, she went to stand. Her legs gave out, and she fell backwards.

“Easy now.” Elphaba urged. “It’s been three days.”

“You were out for nearly three weeks and are fine.” Glinda rebutted.

“I’ve been slowly working myself back to strength with recovery draughts.” Elphaba explained. The woman flicked a hand. A few moments later, Sarima entered the room.

“Ah, it is nice to see you awake, Miss Glinda.” Sarima said.

“It is nice to be awake, Miss Sarima.” Glinda replied. “However, I would like to be out of bed.”

“A nice liquid breakfast with a recovery draught should have you up and going in no time.” Sarime replied cheerfully. “It has helped Miss Elphaba quite a bit.”

“It has.” Elphaba answered guardedly. “Please get her one. We have...something to discuss.”

“I will.”

After Sarima left, Elphaba gave her a hard look.

“Fiyero tells me you’re pregnant.”

“Yes I am.” Glinda answered. She knew that this conversation was coming.

“Who’s the father?”

“I’ve not slept with a man since Fiyero.” Glinda replied.

“Glinda, there’s no need to lie-”

“I’m not lying, Elphaba!” Glidna retorted angrily. 

“Glinda, there has to be a father! Pregnancies don’t just happen magically!” Elphaba shot back angrily. At Glinda’s look, she blanched. “Oh….Oh...Oh. You’re not saying…”

“I’m roughly four months along.” Glinda replied. “There was no one else around at that time, as you can attest. I was not even with a man alone during those months.”

“Just...how?” Elphaba asked, putting her head down and running her hands over her hair.

“I don’t know Elphaba.” Glinda answered exasperatedly. “It’s magic. Does it have to make sense?”

“So...when were you going to tell me?”

“Well, that depended on the situation.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Elphaba acidly.

“What it means,” Glinda replied in the same tone, “is that when I was in pleasant retirement at my estate, and you were happily at Kiamo Ko with Fiyero, the answer was going to be never.”

“You would keep that from me?”

“You mean, that they’re yours or that I had twins? First yes but second no. I would have told you I had children. But you think with how everything was going before that me floating into Kiamo Ko to let you and your partner know you magically impregnated me would have been a good idea? How would that have played out?”

“I deserved to know.” Elphaba retorted.

“You left. Do we need to go back over how that was?” Glinda spat back. “Whatever right you had to know left with it.”

“So now what?” Elphaba asked. “Fiyero knows you’re pregnant, as does Sarima and probably all of Kiamo Ko at this point. The paternity is going to come up.”

“Fiyero already asked the obvious question about Duran, but he believed me when I said no.” Glinda explained. “Otherwise everyone is too polite to ask.”

“But they’ll gossip.”

“Heaven forbid they do that.” Glinda snarked. Elphaba’s lips twitched.

“Old Glinda would never let people control a narrative behind her back.”

“I’ve been a bit preoccupied with more important things as of late.”

“Speaking of pressing things,” Elphaba continued as Sarima walked into the room with two recovery draughts, “we have another one.”

“Of course we do. Thank you, Sarima.” Glinda said as she took the cup.

“Thank you, Sarima.” Elphaba echoed as she took her. Glinda started to drink while Elphaba cradled hers. “Yes. Duran is...having issues.”

“What kind of issues?” Glinda asked. She motioned for Elphaba to drink. The woman scowled and did so before continuing.

“Apparently he’s out of balance. He thinks it has something to do with when you transferred some of his spell energy.”

“Well, then we can just put it back.”

“I don’t think it will be quite that easy. Let’s finish these and talk to him about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> If you're reading this, can you drop me a comment below? Even a simple "here" would suffice. It's been a bit quiet, and I'm debating if I want to put another 60k words into a story no one is really reading. Thanks.


	10. Fighting Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you can't fight fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reached out and commented. It is nice to see that so many people enjoy the work. As any writer will tell you, sometimes there are times when you hit the grind and you wonder what you are doing. Your comments really helped re-energize me for this story.

They found Duran sitting cross legged in the same room Elphaba had been in repose. His eyes were closed and his lips moved through a wordless creed. Glinda immediately saw the issue. The spells around him were dancing out of control. They were not fading, like Elphaba’s had; rather each were fighting for prominence. Glinda sighed.

“No need for such drama on my part.” Duran’s voice rang out. 

“And how do you suggest we fix this issue?” asked Glinda. “Your spells are worse off than Elphaba’s.”

“Wait, you can see them?” asked Elphaba. “How?”

“Oh, Durandal gave me the same sight spell he gave you.” Glinda answered hurriedly. “But Durandal, what’s the remedy here? Recast them? Will they fade?”

“Unfortunately no to both.” he smiled and opened his eyes. “My spells will not fade away. Rather, they seem to want to tear my body apart. I believe it is because my core spell was weakened during the transference. If you could tell me if that’s true, I would appreciate it.” 

“How? You’re a big ball of spells.” Elphaba asked. 

“Finesse, Elphie.” Glinda responded. “As you view him, turn your sight in your mind like a wheel. It will sharpen your focus.”

“Okay.”

Glinda let her own witch sight narrow. There was Duran and his spells. All of them seemed full strength; even growing in strength. Pushing them aside, she looked further. Nearly entwined with him was a spell that was red to her witch’s eye. Appearing as a fraying number of threads, itl was coming apart under the strain. Glinda slowly pulled back her witch sight.

“Did you catch it, Elphie?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Elphaba nodded. “A spell that is being ripped apart.”

“So how do we recast that, Durandal?” Glinda asked. “Giving it more energy may cause it to snap.”

“Well, that’s the rub, isn’t it?” he answered. “I don’t know how to cast it.”

“What do you mean you don’t know how to cast it?” Glinda asked in disbelief.

“That’s a spell we never learned. It’s the core Makelean spell, and only the Master knew it. He died before we escaped. We only figured out how to chain spells to it to make them behave.” he explained. Glinda could tell there was something he was not telling them.

“You have an answer, Durandal. What is it?”

“You’re not going to like it.” he replied. 

“The answer?” Elphaba urged. 

“The only way to strengthen that spell is to bind ourselves to someone.” Duran told them.

“Oh. Okay.” Glinda said. “What does that binding do? Like, do you have to stay near us or something?”

“What? No.” he laughed. “It generally means we are compelled to look after you. We can go to other places, though, as long as there is not like an immediate threat we know about.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Elphaba said. “What’s the catch?”

“The catch is to do the binding ritual requires you to put a sword through my heart.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Glinda asked.

“That will kill you.” Elphaba agreed. Duran shrugged.

“Not immediately, but symbolically that’s the point, and symbolism is the point of rituals. By driving a sword through my heart - and, well, other parts of my body - you will be taking my life. But because of the ritual, I will be healed and bound to you.” he explained.

“Has it ever not worked?” Glinda asked. 

“Only exceedingly rare instances.” Duran smiled bashfully. “Mostly because of weakness of the spirit. Won’t be an issue in this case.”

“Fine.” Glinda threw her hands up in exasperation. “If this is the last life or death decision we have to deal with, then just fine. Let’s get to it.”

“That won’t be the case, unfortunately.” Fiyero said as he entered the room. Sarima followed shortly. Glinda did not even care about that at the moment.

“Of course it won’t.” Glinda griped. “What now?”

“The Yunamata sent a messenger not a week after you arrived.” Fiyero answered. “Apparently they want reparation for some warriors of theirs you killed.”

“You mean the ones that tried to murder us?” Elphaba asked incredulously. “That takes some gall.”

“That’s not the body part I was thinking of.” Glinda added dryly. “Fiyero, you must know-”

“It’s all crap, yes.” Fiyero answered. “It’s typical Yunamata tactics. Take some alleged slight and turn it into a pretense for war. I just can’t figure out why they would have pursued you to begin with.”

“I have a feeling someone in the City is pulling strings to keep us on the back foot, and the Arjiki busy. It’s classic City tactics to play the Vinkun tribes against each other to keep them weak.” Glinda replied. Pausing, she asked. “Will they go to war on the Arjiki?”. 

“We are too far on the other side of the Kells. If they tried, we would annihilate them.” Fiyero shook his head. “Which is why they sent for an honor duel.”

“I’m not going to like the rest of this.” Elphaba snarked. “I can tell by your voice.”

“If they win, their restitution is those they say killed their warriors. You two.”

“Yup. Knew it.” Elphaba sighed. 

“And if you win?” asked Glinda. 

“Something equal to their claim.” Fiyero replied, shrugging. “I’m not certain as to what yet. Either way, they’ll be here within the week. ”

“Of course someone is trying to capture us again. Why not right now with everything else going on?” Glinda grumbled. She paused then, and in a dreamy voice said. “The skeins of fate weave taut around this moment. That’s why everything is happening now.”

“What?” asked Elphaba. “I thought I’m supposed to be the prophetic one.” 

Glinda turned to look at Duran.

“You felt this all coming. The strands of fate pulling tighter. Fighting the Yunamata; Elphaba’s injury; her out of control magic; me summoning Sarima and teaching her; my learning witch sight; the revelation of my pregnancy; and the Yunamata coming to seek vengeance. You foresaw all of it.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.” Duran replied. He coughed, and wiped a bit of blood from his mouth. “I did not see all of this happening, but felt fate trying to weave together this moment.”

He gave her a self-satisfied grin. 

“I did say you should fly.” Duran reminded her smugly. 

“And I disagreed with you, setting the threads into motion.” Glinda answered horrified. She looked at Elphaba. “What have I done?”

“You made a decision you thought was best, what hell may come.” Duran reassured her. The phrase made her turn back to the man. The room did as well. 

“What hell comes, Durandal?” Glinda asked him. He looked away. “Do not shy away from me now!”

“Something...I’m not certain of it, but something does come.”

When he returned their gaze, the intensity of his stare burned them.

“Fate will not be denied her moment.”

* * *

The next week was a sprint around the castle. Glinda and Elphaba had to find all the ingredients needed for the ritual. Some were easy, but a couple they had to seek outside its grounds. Fiyero was busy as well, preparing both Kiamo Ko and Red Windmill for the approaching delegation. Sarima bounced between the two groups, helping finding magical ingredients but also helping preparations as she did with the Garamana. When the approaching delegation was sighted two days out, Glinda and Elphaba were prepared for the ritual. Taking an empty side room, they started setting up. Besides Duran, both Sarima and Fiyero were present. This was something that would never be seen again. Neither would miss it. 

Elphaba took the jars of ingredients and placed them to the side. Salt, earth, candle oil, and water. A pouch of gold coins, one of copper dust and a jar of bone meal followed after. Finally, a necklace of Glinda’s and a pocket watch of Fiyero’s.

Glinda grabbed the book the notes were written in. The ritual had to be set up with four points of opposing elements linked by copper and surrounded with salt. Duran had to be in the center of the circle. Anyone could enter, but then they would be part of the ritual.

Taking out a piece of string, Elphaba measured the distance across the room. Cutting the string, she found equal points and marked them with their representative element. Elphaba remeasured again to make sure everything was in the right place. Seeing it was, she dived back into the notes. The ritual itself was pretty simple. Calling upon the eight opposing elements, Glinda would invoke them to create a bind between her and Duran. 

Glinda fidgeted as Elphaba drew the ring of salt around the elements. Fastidious as always, Elphaba had tacked a string to the floor and traced her circle. Finishing that, she emptied five of the seven containers into a pile. Drawing from another pouch, Elphaba drew the lines of copper powder around each and connected them in a ring. Elphaba looked at Glinda, holding Duran’s sword, and the kneeling man in the middle.

“Ready?” Elphaba asked. “Once the liquid is spilt, we can’t go back.”

“R-ready.” Glinda nodded.

“Ready.” Duran answered.

Elphaba took a deep breath and tipped both liquid containers out. She watched them for a moment to make sure they spread to the copper, and then started.

“I call upon the four elements of the physical world to come to my aid.” Elphaba intoned, reading off the sheet of paper held in her hand. “Let Earth come through the dirt; let air from the wind around us.”

Their clothes fluttered as a breeze flew through the room. The hair on their arms began to rise. Sarima’s curly hair even started to float slightly. 

“Let water come forth from water spilled; let fire from the oil I ignite.”

Elphaba reached into her pocket to bring forth a match, not wanting to risk using her own magic during the sensitive ritual, but the candle oil sparked to life of its own accord. Everyone but Duran jumped. Elphaba steadied her free arm. All noticed the respective copper lines starting to mix with the elements. They began to glow.

“Let the elements intangible come to my call: let chance come from the gold may be gotten, let time from a watch that marks it.” Both elements shone. Elphaba watched as the metal began to drip. 

“Let love come from a gift given in such; and let death come from what we are reduced to.” 

The air in the room started to swirl around them. The eight elements bubbled and jumped as the copper connecting them burned like the sun. Sarima and Fiyero shielded their eyes; Elphaba and Glinda’s remained wide. The air crackled with magical energy. 

Everyone in the room suddenly found it hard to breathe. Glinda especially felt as if ropes were wrapping around her, forcing the air from her lungs. The sensation lessened, then redoubled. Glinda swayed but remained upright. The air throbbed.

“Glinda, now!” Elphaba called. 

The blonde lifted the sword and placed it on Duran’s chest. Blue eyes locked on brown. Glinda's hand shook, and the tip wobbled. The air throbbed again. Glinda could feel the ritual rising and ebbing. Soon it would break and be over.

“Glinda!” Elphaba yelled.

“I-I can’t!” she cried. Her eyes never left his. “I can’t do it! I can’t kill someone!”

Tears streamed down her face. The spell gripped her tight, one last squeeze before it would break. But then Glinda felt a hand on hers. A green hand. 

“Together then.” were the hard words in her ear.

“Do it now!” Duran commanded.

Both women closed their eyes and pressed forward. There was a wet sound as they felt the smooth slide of sword in flesh. Duran explosively exhaled as the air was forced from his lungs. A slight click and the blade path was redirected. Elphaba’s brain idly informed her that was most likely his spine. 

With that, the women’s brains recoiled in horror, and they pulled back. The blade slid free and Duran fell forward onto his hands. The women looked at the blade. It was clean. The spell sank until it dispersed. Both women opened their witch sight. The fire around Duran had settled, more than they had ever seen. It seemed calmed, as if given something it always lacked. Both let out ragged sighs of relief.

“Perfectly...done.” Duran gasped. He looked at them. The women noticed that though he was whole, there was a large scar over his heart. “Now...I’m going to sleep...for the first time in...a long time. It’s...natural.”

With that, the man collapsed. 

“If I never have to do that again, I’ll be happy with my life.” Glinda breathed. 

“Agreed.” Elphaba replied.

“Now how are we gonna get him somewhere to sleep?” Glinda asked. “I can’t carry him.”

“I can float him!” Sarima offered. Glinda blinked.

“Not a bad idea.” Glinda said. “Let’s get him some place to rest.”

“The guest room by yours is open.” Fiyero told her. “Unfortunately, I have to make ready for our visitors.”

“Understandable.” Glinda nodded.

“Now Sarima,” Elphaba said, “do you remember how to float someone?”

“Yes, I simply…”

* * *

Fiyero walked across the drawbridge of Kiamo Ko. Standing at its end were the leaders of the Yunamata delegation. As was tradition, next to them was a burning fire. Behind Fiyero came a couple of his advisors, and Sarima. Both sides went through the traditional greetings. Now it was time for business.

“What is the misdeed you lay before me?” Fiyero asked formally.

“Two of those under your care slew warriors of the Yunamata. We come seeking blood payment in turn.” the leader responded. He was a middle aged man with a strong build and scars that told of a life earning his place.

“And who are these two?”

“The milk white shaman and the green beast.” he answered. Fiyero did not rise to the bait of his insults.

“And you have such proof of these misdeeds?”

“My word is my proof.”

“And where did your warriors encounter these two?” asked Fiyero. The man started slightly. This was not the traditional way these things went. One would say it happened, the other would deny it, challenge and its outcome.

“What does it matter?” he asked.

“It matters because both shamans walk on the air.” Fiyero replied. “Are you saying that your own warriors can do the same?”

“No, but that does not mean they could not have done it.” the Yunamata leader contested.

“Are you suggesting your warriors were hunted down from the air like we would hunt the deer across the plains?” Fiyero asked. The Yunamata clenched his jaw. Fiyero had trapped him into either insulting his warriors by stating they had a poor death, or admitting they had encountered them on the ground.

“No.” the Yunamata responded. “They came across them while passing through the Kells.”

“I see.” Fiyero paused. “And what were Yunamata warriors doing in the Pass?”

“They were returning from a meeting of tribes.” he muttered. No one believed it for the moment. But the pretense was enough.

“And so the shamans slew your warriors as they returned through the Pass while meeting them on foot?” Fiyero summarized. 

“Yes.” the man growled. Fiyero nodded.

“I see.” He paused. “I determine your word false. Those who can walk on the air do not need passes through mountains.”

“Then we shall submit it to the gods to determine. I demand a decision by combat.”

“And if you are victorious? What is your claim?” Fiyero asked, already knowing the answer. The Yunamata smiled.

“The shamans.”

“And if I win?” Fiyero asked. 

“We offer you two of our shaman in return.”

“Two Yunamata shaman?” Fiyero scoffed. “You ask much in victory but give so little in defeat.”

“You insult us!” the Yunamata hissed. Fiyero shook his head.

“No, you insult the two you wish to claim. One is the Witch of the West, and the most powerful sorcerer in all of Oz. The other was the leader of the Oz twice, and is the second most powerful sorcerer. Your shaman cannot compare in value. Not even all of those in your tribe.”

“So what is it you ask in return?”

“If we are proved to be true,” Fiyero paused. “I demand the Yunamata submit to the Arjiki.”

“What?” the Yunamata growled, looking as if going to surge forward. The surrounding retainers tensed in preparation for conflict.

“Yes. Your whole tribe is worth the two you ask for.” Fiyero answered. “Furthermore, your warriors trespassed on Arjiki soil in what was either a scouting or raiding pack. No Yunamata sends members to tribes unless it is for a challenge like this. Finally, if your warriors were truly slain by the two, then they would have had to ambush them on the ground. These collective insults are more than enough for a justified call to war.”

The Yunamata man scowled. 

“You don’t have the steel for it.” he spat.

“Perhaps if it was just our warriors but,” Fiyero smiled ferally, “as you say, I’ve two shaman on my side that can slay a warpack of warriors without being harmed. Tell me, how do you think you would fair?”

The man’s mouth pinched tighter. Fiyero knew he was calculating his tribe’s chances, and they were not good. Of course, neither Elphaba nor Glinda would participate in a war but he did not know that. Fiyero had trapped him to either wager more than they could afford, or back down. Neither was something they did easily. 

“I must consult our leaders.” he said. 

The group moved away from the fire, and so did Fiyero’s. As they waited, Fiyero could hear them talking and see them sending messages with magic. He hoped that the chieftains would baulk and call off the challenge. The Yunamata were a proud people, but no matter how good their champion duel outcomes were never certain. To wager fealty for the entire tribe would be foolish. The Yunamata walked back to the group, and so did Fiyero’s.

“The decision?” Fiyero asked.

“The chieftains agree to your terms.” the Yunamata said. Fiyero was shocked, but managed to nod his head.

“Tomorrow morning, then.” Fiyero intoned. 

“Tomorrow morning.” the Yunamata leader agreed. With that, the fire was extinguished and both parties retreated. 

* * *

“I don’t understand it.” Fiyero muttered. He was sitting in his hall surrounded by his advisors. Glinda, Elphaba, and Sarima were there too. “No sane person would wager their clan’s allegiance on a duel. No matter how supremely confident they are in their champion.”

“The Yunamata have always been a bit daring.” Sarima tried. Even her voice told them she did not believe it. Fiyero shook his head. 

“No. There’s something going on here.”

“Maybe a trap? An ambush?” suggested Elphaba. Fiyero shook his head again. 

“No. Breaking the traditions would end in their destruction as their people and livestock would be considered open targets.” 

“Perhaps they look to cast doubt on the final verdict unless they win?” Glinda suggested. “Use some sort of magic to obscure the result or suggest interference?”

“Possible, but I don’t know how. You three are here to guard against that.” Fiyero pursed his lips.

Duran chose that moment to come through the door. The man’s face was hard.

“I hear there is a duel tomorrow.” he started with no preamble. “I need to be the one in it.”

“How dare you-” one of Fiyero’s advisors started, but Fiyero held up a hand.

“Leave us.” he ordered. 

The advisors looked at him, but started to leave. Sarima did also, but a look from Fiyero rooted her to the spot. After the door shut, Fiyero let out a deep breath. He gave Duran a hard glare.

“I do not appreciate you coming in here and making demands at me. Especially in Vinkun matters.” he warned sternly.

“Neither of the women are Vinkun, nor is the offender.” Duran rebutted. Fiyero waved a hand.

“It doesn't matter. You are associated with me and therefore it is a Vinkun matter. Even more so that a tribe’s allegiance at play.”

“Then it is even more imperative I be the one that fights. None of your warriors can compare to me.”

“Perhaps that is true,” Fiyero nodded, “but it would fly in the face of all tradition. To do so would be repugnant to anyone who values the traditions of the Vinkus.”

“Traditions change and can be broken.” Duran gave Fiyero a hard stare. “Especially if one can crown themselves King of the Vinkus.”

“What King would I be if I cast aside our people’s beliefs so readily?” Fiyero shook his head. “No, Gawae, my cousin and champion, will be the one to fight.”

“Don’t be foolish, Fiyero.” Duran hissed. 

“I don't care to be called a fool. Even by one such as you.” Fiyero spat back. He stood. “We are finished here.”

Glinda held up a hand. Fiyero stopped.

“What is it, Durandal?” she asked. “This is very out of character of you.”

“Fate comes to this moment.” he replied. “I sense a dark one if the Arjiki are not victorious here.”

“I admit it is not ideal.” Fiyero sighed. “But I cannot turn my back on my people’s ways simply for convenience. Even if we are to lose, those two will either run or be captive for no more than a day before they free themselves.”

“No.” Duran shook his head. “If you don’t win, a tide of blood follows.”

“What have you seen?” Elphaba asked. “I’ve nothing in my dreams.”

“Because something clouds them.” Duran replied. “When I woke, I felt a tremendous doom. I tried to read the tea leaves of the future, but they sat flat. Whatever comes, whomever has maneuvered them such, has blocked our view of this moment and beyond.”

“So how do you know blood comes?” asked Fiyero.

“Because if you fail, either the women flee, starting a war between the Arjiki and the Yunamata, or they are held captive, and I do not believe they would last outside the week. In which we would all be worse off.”

“The best I can do is a second.” Fiyero exhaled in resignation. “It would make sense as you are seen as a bodyguard to Glinda, and it is her on the line as well. But I cannot do more.”

“I understand.” Duran replied. With that, he spun and left the room.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Fiyero said. Everyone in the room agreed.

* * *

The morning of the duel the courtyard was crowded, as was the far end of the bridge. As was decided, the duel was to be fought on the drawbridge. Not the wisest idea but the most symbolic, and duels were as much about symbolism as they were swords. Fiyero’s retinue stood next to him, as did his own guards and tribespeople. His cousin Gawae was there, sweat covering his brow. Glinda and Elphaba watched from behind them, a cloaked figure at their side. As the Yunamata delegation approached, and Fiyero went to meet them, Gawae suddenly turned and vomited on the cobblestones. Fiyero looked at him in concern.

“Are you alright, cousin?” he asked.

“Just a minor-” was as far as Gawae got before he vomited again. He sank to the cobblestones clutching his stomach. “I-I-I’m afraid I’m not -”

He let the contents of his stomach spew from his mouth. At the same time, there was another gurgling sound. Fiyero pursed his lips. 

“You are sick. It happens to the best of us. Please, go rest.” he said. 

Motioning, two of his retinue helped him up and into the castle. As they passed the trio, Fiyero glared in their direction. He jerked his head, but otherwise turned towards the waiting delegation. Glinda and Elphaba moved forward, the cloaked Duran at their side. Fiyero waited until they were near him, and then spoke.

“It seems my champion has fallen ill.” the venom in his voice was evident. “Did you have something to do with this?”

“Nothing, I swear.” Glinda answered.

“Of course not.” Elphaba huffed.

“I was not asking either of you.” he replied. “Duran?”

“And what would it change if I did?” Duran answered. 

“We will have issues after this.” Fiyero warned.

“Of that I have no doubt.” 

“Prepare yourself.” Fiyero told him. “I’ll go to meet them.”

Fiyero and his retinue moved away. The trio stepped back behind the crowd which reformed to watch the proceedings. Once sufficiently hidden, Duran stepped away and started to warm up. Glinda noticed he moved stiffly (for him, at least), and he slowly worked his way through his motions. She also found it strange he remained mostly cloaked. Either way, she turned to watch the forthcoming ritual.

“Problems?” asked the Yunamata leader to Fiyero with a smug smile.

“Just someone drinking too much last night.” Fiyero responded. “Let us begin.”

The pre-duel ritual was ornate but rather straightforward. The Yunamata stated their grievances, Fiyero denied them, and then they demanded retribution. The shamans of the two tribes invoked the spirits in a traditional but non-magical way, and both sides vowed on the spirits to honor the outcome of the duel. Then, the challenger brought forth their champion. The crowd muttered as a man in doublet and pantaloons with high boots moved forward. The most astonishing part was he was not Yunamata, but a white man with a big smile. Glinda thought there was something off about him. 

As the ritual continued, Duran shucked his own cloak. The Arjiki around him muttered, unhappy he was to be their champion. Two outsiders fighting for Vinkuns was an affront to their people. However, as Duran moved quickly now through his motions, his shirt gaped. Those around him took in the scars of his body, and quieted. As the ritual concluded, the Yunamata champion stepped forward to offer the traditional challenge. 

“Come! Who looks to die on my blade?” he shouted across the drawbridge, flourishing his blade in a set of movements meant to intimidate. “Don’t be shy! I promise to make it quick. I mean, it will be humiliating for you but that’s not my fault! Who is it? You?” 

The Arjiki faces pulled tighter in disgust. The man had no sense of honor or decorum. Fiyero glanced over at the Yunamata leader who had a look of strained patience on his face, but ambition in his eyes. Now Fiyero knew there was something more to this person. 

Something clicked in Glinda’s mind, and she walked over to Duran.

“Which one is he?” she asked.

“I see you figured it out.” he answered. 

Glinda watched Duran unsheathe his rapier and toss the scabbard aside. Striding towards the bridge, he gave Elphaba and her a nod as he walked passed. As the crowd began to part, the man on the drawbridge laughed.

“Ah, here comes the hero now! Don’t keep me waiting! I’m eager to spill your blood!”

When Duran appeared, the smile on the man faltered. Duran met it with one of his own.

“Hello, Mikel.”


	11. The Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are judged not only by who we are, but who we can be....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Violence, Blood, and Death

“Duran?” laughed Mikel in shock. “Who would have thought you turned up here!”

“I heard stories of someone out in the Vinkus.” Duran replied as he crossed onto the bridge. “What are you doing with the Yunamata, Mikel?”

“They pay me to kill people. Can’t want more than that.” The other man shrugged. “What are you doing with the Arjiki?”

“I’m not.” Duran shook his head. “I got caught up in a little adventure that led me here.”

“Led?” Mikel tsked. “That’s not the Duran I knew. The Duran I knew  _ despised _ being forced to do anything.”

“Unfortunately it was not my call.” Duran shrugged. “But that still doesn’t tell me how you ended up with the Yunamata. I can’t imagine they approached you themselves.”

“Unfortunately,” Mikel mocked, “I don’t feel like telling you. You were always too nosey for your own good.”

“So I’ve been told.” Duran replied. He stopped far outside sword range.

“Oh! I almost forgot! Did you know I killed Dorian? Not a decade ago.” Mikel laughed.

“I did not.” Duran smiled wanly.

“Never much liked him, did you?”

“Not as much as I liked you.”

“And now I get to kill you.” Mikel smiled. “What a treat this is! I thought I was going to kill some unwashed barbarian. Instead, I get to finish this.”

“It does end here.” Duran nodded. He held his blade in a salute in front of his face. Mikel laughed and followed suit.

“To us honored few.” they spoke in unison. “Until death.”

Duran slipped into a mid guard while Mikel slipped into a high one. The both held perfectly still. Mikel’s face held a slightly too wide smile while Duran’s was set in fierce concentration.

“Who is he?” Fiyero spoke quietly to Glinda. 

“I’d like to know as well.” Elphaba agreed.

“Mikel. One of Duran’s companions.” Glinda answered. 

“Oh.” Elphaba blinked.

“One of his companions?” Fiyero asked as he watched the two men judge each other. “Why would they fight, then?”

“The same magic that makes Duran and Mikel what they are can cause them to slip into madness.” Glinda replied. “Not long ago he told us there were three left. His rival Dorian, whom Mikel just said he killed; and Mikel himself, his closest companion.” 

The two men clashed. The ring of steel and the change of position were the only thing that told the observers it happened. Both men held steady again: Mikel smiling and Duran’s eyes boring into him. They clashed again, glints of light moving between them faster than those watching could track. They pulled apart. Mikel laughed.

“I couldn’t follow any of that.” Fiyero muttered. “No wonder Duran insisted he fight.”

“Someone moved him to this moment.” Elphaba said. “It is even clearer now that someone with long reach is working against us.”

“But who has the vision and reach to do so?” Glinda wondered.

The former compatriots attacked. Their blows struck and feet covered distance quickly. They were warming up now. Neither had to use such skill in a long time. Duran feinted, which Mikel bought, but the other retreated before Duran’s blow could land. Duran followed a bit too eagerly, and barely blocked the return blow.

“Almost got me there.” Mikel chuckled.

“Almost.” Duran answered.

“Why so serious, Duran?” Mikel asked. “You should be having fun! How long has it been since you’ve fought someone your equal?”

“I take no relish in this, Mikel.”

“Well, more fun for me then.” the man shrugged.

Mikel came at him in a flurry of strikes probing for a weakness. Duran held him off until a particularly good feint drew him out of position. He recovered, but Mikel’s sword cut a light gash across his shoulder. The bright red blood shone in the morning light. Mikel’s eyes took on a manic look.

“First blood to me, then.” he growled.

“Many more to go.” Duran retorted. 

The pace of the duel quickened. Their movements were still just as fast, but neither man backed off the other easily. The only judgement was the blood being spilt beneath them. Glinda flinched as Duran’s shed again, and again. Mikel had not taken a scratch. Until he cried out and lept back. A cut across the bicep, and Duran’s blade was red.

“Guess I’m on the board now.” Duran hissed. 

“But I still lead.” Mikel snapped back.

The observers could tell now the duelists moved with grim earnest. No more did they need to warm into it, or gain their judgements. Now it was pure skill and determination. Blood flew quicker, vivid splattering across the drawbridge. More streamed from Duran than Mikel, but the other was not untouched. Those watching wondered how the two kept fighting. One who knew wondered at Duran’s movements.

Glinda thought they were not as sure. No, that was not it. They were not as fluid, tense. Something was on his mind. Something weighing on him, holding him back. As Mikel struck Duran again and laughed, Glinda noticed the tightness in the man’s face. It was not doubt, but there was something missing that had always seemed present. As the two pulled apart, Glinda saw the deep gash across Duran’s chest, causing his shirt to fall open. The man stepped back as Mikel licked the blood along his blade.

“What is that scar, Duran?” he asked, pointing to the one above his heart. “Did you get bonded?”

“We are what we are, Mikel.” Duran growled.

“What a fool!” Mikel laughed again. “You chained yourself to someone for life. A man who never said he would be chained again.”

“Times change.”

“Yes, but I do not.” Mikel gave him a feral grin, baring his blood covered teeth. “I like what I am.”

Duran set himself again, and the two were off.

“What can a man do against such a monster?” Fiyero asked, shaking his head.

_ Monster. _ The word rang inside Glinda’s head.  _ Monster… _

* * *

_ “Brother Dervel?” Elphaba asked incredulously. “He’s a brother now?” _

_ “Not officially no. But he attends service regularly enough to be well known to us.” the Head Maunt responded.  _

_ “Dervel? I’m not familiar with that saint.” Glinda asked. _

_ “He’s an early one. He helped cleanse the Lurlinists from Gillikin.” _

_ “A butcher saint. How appropriate.” Elphaba spat. _

* * *

_ “You think me weak.” Elphaba said hoarsely but the disgust was there. Glinda glared up at him in warning. Duran simply smiled sadly down at them. _

_ “No; I think you are strong. It is easy to take life; especially when we can fool ourselves into thinking it is justified. It takes a much stronger person to preserve it, even when the person is not worthy of the consideration.” _

* * *

_ “Jackals.” Duran said from up ahead. “They’ve been following us for at least an hour. Most likely attracted by the blood Elphaba is dripping. They’ll stay back as long as we stay together.” _

_ “Why?” Glinda asked. “If there’s that many, why won’t they just attack us?” _

_ Duran stopped and turned to the women. In the dim light, the only thing visible were the white of his smile, and the shine of his eyes. Elphaba squeezed Glinda’s hand, or perhaps they squeezed each other. _

_ “Because they know a fiercer monster is among us.” he turned again, and continued on. The women shivered, only partially from the dropping temperature. _

* * *

_ “However, it is interesting that she could not scry you.” Elphaba looked at him. Duran smiled and shrugged. _

_ “One of many talents.” _

_ “Natural and unnatural?” Elphaba retorted. _

_ “Mostly unnatural.” he glibbed back. _

_ “Yes. Many of us wonder if you are a Rakasha, a demon who takes on human form.” the Scrow warleader spoke firmly. Duran laughed but glanced around as he did. The eyes were on him. _

_ “I am not some demon come to kill you.” he said. “I am a man; maybe not like any other, but from a mother just as well.” _

* * *

_ “We kept fighting, Gods of War all.” Duran told his tale of the last stand of the Makelean Knights. “My closest compatriot, Mikel, was to my right wielding a spear that cut many a throat. My rival Dorian on my left, two handed sword cleaving through warriors. I had two maces at that point, little more than steel bars, as all our shields had been split and my swords bent and broken.” _

_ Duran laughed in joy at the memory. _

* * *

_ “I said there’s nothing you can do about it.” Duran answered as he came closer to Glinda who was holding the dying Elphaba. “However, as we previously discussed, I’m a monster made to be bound to a master whom I protect.” _

* * *

_ “You had to twist that knife.” Glinda hissed at Duran. “You’re a right bastard, you know that?” _

_ “Of course I am.” he agreed. “I thought that was clear long ago.” _

* * *

_ Monster.  _ The word rang in Glinda’s head.  _ He thinks himself a monster. _

Watching him, it was clear to her now. He was holding himself back from feeling the joy of the fight. Mikel, his dark reflection, had even pointed that out at the beginning. But if Duran knew that - which he must - why was he gambling so much by doing so? He already thought himself one.

_ Her. _

It hit her like lightning, with the last ring of steel the thunderclap afterwards as the two duelists stepped back from each other. They were clad in their own crimson now and, for the first time, breathing harder. The number of cuts on Duran dwarfed Mikel. At this rate, he would lose. And that was something that could not happen.

“Durandal!” she cried out. Duran edged away from Mikel. The man laughed.

“Durandal, huh?” Mikel grinned. “So she knows your real name. Is she your lover? ”

“Not a lover, no.” Duran hissed.

“Perhaps the one you bound yourself to? Either way, go ahead and look. I won’t kill you in a sneak attack. Not when I’m having such fun.” Mikel rasped in manic glee. 

Duran withdrew further, eyes never leaving Mikel. Once he was well out of range, he turned to look at Glinda. Striding to the front of the crowd, she met his steely gaze with one of her own.

“Cry Havoc! And let slip the Dogs of War!” she called out. Duran blinked, his face going slack. Mikel laughed behind him.

“Your stupid old phrase! Come now, Duran, she must be something to you.” Mikel giggled. “Perhaps after I kill you, the Yunamata will let me kill her. I don’t think they will allow either to live very long.”

“I think I’ll have to ruin your fun, Mikel.” Duran sighed. He turned back to the man, his face serene. “For she is something to me, and that is someone who understands and accepts me for not only what I am, but for what she believes me able to be.”

“What sort of milksop drivel is that?” Mikel scoffed. “This is no fable, Duran. There is no sudden comeback.”

“Of that you are quite right.” Duran answered, and raised his sword into his mid guard. This time, a smile grew with it. “But it does not need to be. You see, Mikel, I’ve been holding back on you.”

“Have you now?” Mikel’s grin got wider. “And why would you do that?”

“Because to kill you means showing who I really am to the world. And that is a terrible thing.”

“You always simpered too much on morality, Duran.” Mikel bared his feral grin. “I should like to never have to hear it again.”

“After I’m done here,” Duran answered with his own smirk, “you won’t have to worry about that.”

The pair clashed again. Even catching their barest movements, the crowd could tell Duran was now more of a match for Mikel. Glinda could tell he had relaxed into the fight. There was a cry as Duran scored a blow against Mikel, and two more that followed. Mikel retreated, his face an annoyed grimace. Duran’s grin parodied Mikel’s earlier one.

“Three more on the board for me.” Duran taunted. “Perhaps that fabled comeback isn’t far off.”

“You’re dreaming if you think so.” Mikel growled.

The duel continued, no longer a one sided affair. Mikel’s growls of frustration and rage were almost drowned out by Duran’s laughter. The man had started counting the blows he struck on the other, stoking his former friend’s rage. But that did not make Mikel a worse swordsman by any means.

“Ah! Good blow!” Duran laughed as Mikel’s blade cut his side. He hammered the hilt into Mikel’s face, sending the other man stumbling back. “Too close, though! You always liked to grind too much.”

“And you dance like a harlot!” Mikel snarled before advancing again.

“How do they continue?” Fiyero asked. “The blood on either is more than enough to kill a man. And the bridge is coated with it.” 

Mikel stumbled back. Duran followed, moving quickly at angles. Mikel took several cuts from Duran before advancing with a strike himself. Duran sidestepped and laced another cut at his side. Mikel cursed at him.

“Your footwork is too linear, Mikel! Some Destreza would have helped!” Duran taunted. 

“Their blood is enhanced to be better than ours.” Glinda explained. “They are able to clot faster, carry more oxygen, and need less of it.”

Duran took another cut, this time across the thigh. His return blow was deeper, thrown with a taunt. “And some Thibault for your range!”

“But time tells.” Elphaba warned. The other two nodded, watching the combatants.

Their speed, once prodigious, had started to slow. It was still faster than most warriors, but it was observable now. What really told the story of their approaching fatigue was that the duel became quieter. Mikel did not snarl or snap at Duran. Duran did not taunt or laugh at Mikel. The only thing the two focused on was the other. 

The duelists pulled apart, breathing heavy. They were swaying slightly. Both stared the other intensely down. For once, neither seemed eager to go on the offensive. The timidity was the sign that the end of the duel was near. Neither group of observers knew who would be the victor. Both men were crisscrossed with cuts - clotted and bleeding - as well as blood. 

Duran knew he was at his limit. Despite his boasts, Mikel’s earlier dominance had left him drained. Both of them knew he was slowing faster. It would only be a matter of when Mikel caught him. With his mind set, Duran moved forward. He cut from the outside, a strike he knew Mikel would block and would draw a thrust in return. Instead of blocking the return thrust, he spun to advance and tucked his own blade under his opposite arm. Mikel’s blade tore through the left side of his torso, sending burning pain through him. His legs weakened, but Duran had counted on that. The momentum of the spin carried him through. 

Duran’s tucked blade pierced Mikel diaphragm and up to his heart and spine. Duran was so close he could feel the surprised gasp from his ex-compatriot as the air was forced from his lungs. Both men went down in a tangle of limbs, sprawling across the bridge. From where he lay on his back, Mikel weakly attempted to pull the blade from himself, but could not. His arms fell back to the bridge. Neither moved. After long moments, Duran’s arm suddenly jerked forward, and he dragged himself to his companion. The crowd waited.

Duran looked into the eyes of his once compatriot. Though clouded in pain, they were clear of the madness that had overtaken him. 

“Is...it...over?” Mikel managed to rasp.

“Yes.” Duran breathed. “It...is.”

“I’m...glad...you...are...here…” Mikel inhaled, a terrible sucking sound coming from his chest. “At...the...end.”

“Until...death.”

“Until…”

The last exhale was not a word, but Duran felt it nonetheless. The world slowly closed in. A warmth came over him. Perhaps now he would be able to rest peacefully. Perhaps he would see all his compatriots again. Perhaps…

The shaman overseeing the ceremony rapped his staff on the bridge.

“If neither combatant is able to rise, then the duel will be declared a draw, and will go to seconds.” he declared. 

Fiyero grit his teeth. They had no second after Gawae had gotten sick, and he could not mark a new one.

“Durandal!”

Fire lit his veins. It burned from him the warm blanket of eternity. Gasping, he felt his limbs jerk and begin to move as if on their own. The flame became a pillar, forcing him upward. He needed to stand. Grabbing Mikel’s discarded rapier, he planted it into the bridge’s soft wood. His right arm levered himself up, compensating for the weakness of his left side. The crowd watched him rise to his feet. Swaying, he opened his eyes and leveled his sword at the Yunamata.

“I, Duran Fanel, claim victory for the Arjiki.” he called with strength he did not know he possessed. “Let none dispute this.”

A pregnant pause held the air. Finally,

“So it is. The spirits have proven the Arjiki’s word true.” intoned shaman.

Like a match, the fire inside him was snuffed out. Duran idly had time to wonder if the sky had always been that blue as he crumpled. There were worse skies to die under. Though he had his boots on, as he always suspected he would. The world darkened above him, and he felt that warm embrace again as he closed his eyes.

“Durandal!” Glinda sprinted past Fiyero as the moment the shaman finished speaking. 

The man fell before Glinda could reach him. Sliding on her knees, she lifted his head off the bridge. His brown eyes were unfocused as they closed. Glinda felt for a pulse. It was weak, but there. Looking over his wounds, she quickly whispered the spell to clean and disinfect them. She almost wished she had not as the extent of his injuries were laid bare. They were not even bleeding anymore, but still were a terrible sight. Glinda pursed her lips, trying to think of what to do.

“Hold him steady.” came a firm command. Glinda turned to see Elphaba by her side. 

“Do you have a healing draught ready?” Glinda asked, voice quivering slightly. Elphaba shook her head.

“No, and the way his body is it would take too long for it to work. So I’m going to have to weave one straight on him.”

“His counterspells-”

“Are weakening, and I can maneuver around them well enough.” Elphaba took a deep breath. “Just hold him steady.”

As Elphaba began to chant the spell, Glinda leaned down to whisper, 

“Stay with us, Durandal. Just a little longer and you’ll be fine.”

As Elphaba finished, Duran jerked into motion. Eyes wild, his hand grasped the rapier at his side. He attempted to rise, but the two women easily restrained him.

“Durandal, relax, it’s me.” Glinda soothed. The man’s eyes focused, and his face grimaced in pain. However, he let the rapier go. 

“So...it is.” he breathed. “There...are worse sights...to see...as one dies.”

“You’re not going to die.” Elphaba insisted. “Not while I am here.”

“Always so...stubborn.” Duran tried to laugh. “But I can feel it.”

Both witches could see his spells begin to gutter and die. Glinda watched his aura start to fade. She looked at Elphaba, who searched up and down his body.

“His wounds are clean and closed. He is not bleeding anymore. His fingers are cold, and seem to lack feeling…” Elphaba muttered, trying to figure out something. Glinda looked back down to see the man himself smiling slightly.

“You’re not going to die, Durandal.” she sniffled. “Just stay with us.”

“All things pass…including me.” Duran replied. His eyes fluttered but stayed open. “The time with you was nice, but I’m only a small part...of your story.”

“Come now, Durandal.” Glinda’s voice was thick and she felt her eyes start to prickle as she struggled to hold back tears. “You can stay with us. With me. Just stay.”

“Sounds nice…” Duran’s eyes fluttered again, and they stayed shut for a moment before slowly opening. Glinda glanced at Elphaba. She was a pale green, but was still muttering under her breath. Glinda looked back down.

“Yes, it does sound nice.” her voice cracked. “You can stay here with me. It would be a nice life, wouldn’t it? We could be together and we could be happy and in love.”

Elphaba’s head shot up and looked at Glinda. The blonde did not notice. A smile weakly twitched on Duran’s lips.

“Don’t...lie, _ mi amor _ .” he responded. “While sweet, it’s not me you love. It’s...her.”

“No, it’s true.” Glinda could not stop the tears now. “Stay and I swear it’s true.”

Duran lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, but hesitated as he saw it was covered in blood. Glinda grasped it and put it against her face. He smiled.

“Such pretty lies.” he managed to breathe out. “Almost wish…”

His eyes fluttered one more time. They stayed closed. Glinda inhaled sharply.

“Are you with me, Durandal?” she begged. For a moment there was nothing, but his eyes slowly opened. Unfocused. His lips moved silently for a moment, and Glinda waited. 

“Always…” his eyes closed again. A deep inhale of breath rattled him. “But there are...other worlds…” 

Glinda felt his arm go limp. 

“Durandal!” she pleaded. “Durandal, please! Please stay with me! Durandal!” 

He did not respond. Glinda looked at Elphaba. The woman’s eyes were wide.

“No. No, no, no, no, no. Not again.” Elphaba muttered. 

Elphaba still looked frantically for something, anything to help. She recalled and discarded spells, incantation, and techniques galore, but there was nothing. After a few moments, both knew it was hopeless. Glinda let out a cry of pure anguish to match Elphaba’s howl of impotence. Neither side moved as the sobs echoed across the chasm of Kiamo Ko. 

On a bloody bridge next to the corpse of his last friend, so passed Durandal Fanel, Sword of Witches. 

  
  



	12. What We Leave Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aftermath of the Duel

Fiyero was the first to move, striding confidently across the bridge. His heart broke as he came to the two women. Everything inside him told him to stop; to offer condolences; to be  _ human _ . But he was the chieftain of the Kiamo Ko, Crown Prince of the Arjiki. Most likely soon Crown Prince of the entire Vinkus. He could not show weakness, especially in front of the Yunamata. And so his heart broke as he walked past the sobbing women without sparing them a glance to come before the Yunamata delegation leader.

“The Arjiki have been proven true.” Fiyero stated with finality. “The Yunamata proved false. As is my right, I claim my prize: the submission of the Yunamata to the Arjiki.”

The Yunamata leader’s lip curled. 

“The chieftains may not agree with your assertion, Chieftain.” he drawled venomously. “They might think witchcraft was involved.”

“Your own shaman witnessed it. You think you can go back on your word so easily?” Fiyero snapped. 

“Not I; but the Yunamata clansmen have a highly independent streak.” he replied with glee.

“They would risk war?” Fiyero warned. The leader shrugged.

“It would be better for some to die than bow to an Arjiki.” he hissed. He glanced past Fiyero. “The question is: would the Arjiki press the issue? I doubt those two whimpering women would have the stomach for -eagh!”

The man clutched at his throat. Fiyero turned to see Elphaba’s clawed hand and burning gaze.

“Elphaba!” Fiyero cried. 

The two Yunamata shamans started to chant. Great tendrils of light formed in front of them. Elphaba did not bother to move her free hand, but tore the spells apart with the fury of her mind. They flickered out to the horrified expressions of their casters. Elphaba stood, raising her hand in the process. The man lifted off the ground, still clutching at his neck. 

“I do not know you.” Elphaba growled as she walked towards them. 

The two shamans tried to do something again, but Elphaba cut quickly with her free hand, quelling the magic. Raising it, the shamans and the rest of the delegation rose into the air. Unlike the first, they were not being strangled. As she came almost level to Fiyero her hands roar to life with fire. Fiyero involuntarily stepped back. He had never seen her command multiple spells a hand. The level of hatred was something he had not seen before either. 

“But I recognize one of you. A year ago I passed by the Yunamata, who threatened Glinda and myself.” Elphaba curled a finger on one of her hands and a Yunamata floated forward. He kicked his legs helplessly as he was singled out. “Perhaps you recall my exact words. If not, let me remind you.”

Elphaba reached out for the man. He broke into a sweat as the fire clawed at him. It danced in Elphaba’s eyes, giving full view of her fury and madness.

“I said if any of you ever get in my way, or try to harm me or mine again, I will burn your entire encampment to the ground!” Elphaba barked viciously. Her voice pitched higher as she drawled her next threat. “So tell me one thing, little ant: why should I stay my hand now. Hmm? Why should I not toss you into the ravine, and lay waste to anyone who claims to be Yunamata? Do you have an answer for me?”

The man looked over at the delegation leader. He was of no help, just struggling to breathe. Elphaba bared her teeth.

“No answer? How about anyone else?” she snapped. None replied. “Still nothing. How about you, representative?”

The man gasped as the chokehold on him was lifted. Taking in vast gulps of air, he glanced at his own shaman. The two stared back helplessly, eyes wide in fear. He glanced at Glinda, who did not raise her head to the spectacle. Finally, he looked at Fiyero. The Arjiki Prince stared emotionlessly back. Finally, Fiyero shrugged.

“I could intercede on your behalf,” Fiyero started, “ _ if  _ you were bound to the Arjiki. However, as you are not, I cannot.”

“You will let her wipe out an entire tribe of people for your ambition?” the leader hissed. Fiyero steely gaze answered.

“You were willing to lie, intimidate, and hire an outside sword to capture and probably kill them, to feed your own.” Fiyero retorted coldly. “Do not roll the dice if you cannot pay the cost, kinsmen.”

Elphaba smiled, her teeth on full display. She reached a clawed hand towards the leader. The man was brave; no one could fault him. It took until Elphaba’s hand grasped his clothes, and they started to smoke, before he broke.

“Fine! The Yunamata agree to submit to Arjiki!” he cried.

“Good.” Fiyero nodded. “Elphaba, drop him.”

“I want to make sure this dog is on a leash before I do.” she hissed.

“He is not being let off; merely a reprieve until we get the full Chieftains together to formally submit.” Fiyero replied. “Now drop him.”

Elphaba glared insolently at him for the command. However, Fiyero would not back down from her here. He could not. Words traveled between the two without speaking. Elphaba’s hands extinguished, and the Yunamata group fell to the ground.

“Then they’ve earned a stay of execution.” Elphaba answered. “For now.”

“Thank you.” Fiyero nodded. He turned to the Yunamata leader. “As for you: you all will be my guests until we reach an accorded time to meet my father with the rest of the Chieftains for the ceremony. You will inform them immediately, however.”

“Your will be done, Crown Prince.” the man growled. 

Fiyero gave him another look before turning his back on him. The dismissal was plain. Fiyero walked back to where the now silent Glinda hunched over the body of Duran. Elphaba was at his side. Fiyero looked down at the man that delivered the Arjiki control over the Vinkus. The man who died to protect the two women near and dear to him. Fiyero watched as Glinda gently pushed a stray lock from Duran’s brow. 

Fiyero motioned to his retainers at the far end of the bridge. As the group moved in their direction, Fiyero knelt down. He reached out to Glinda. The blonde looked into his eyes. Fiyero had not seen them so full of pain since...since that day in the cornfield in Munchkinland. Taking her hand in his, he gave it a squeeze. The woman allowed it, but did not return the gesture.

“I will have him taken to our place of honor.” Fiyero spoke gently to her. “He will be given full rites as the Arjiki would.”

“Into the flames, then.” Glinda sniffed. “He will be cremated.”

“Yes. Tonight under the stars.” Fiyero acknowledged. “His effects will go to you. Unless…”

“They will stay here until I can reach the Dogs of War.” Glinda replied. “They will need to know.”

Fiyero nodded, not completely understanding. His retainers had appeared with a wicker shield between them, decorated in the Arjiki colors. Fiyero stood, gently pulling on Glinda’s hand. The woman was reluctant at first, but her training had taught her to separate body from mind. She stood next to Fiyero, looking down at the still body of Duran.

“Lift him up, brothers.” Fiyero commanded. “For though he may not have been of our clan, he was our brother at the end. We shall honor him as such.”

The men knelt down, gently lifting Duran’s body onto the shield. One glanced over to the corpse of Mikel.

“And him, Prince?” the man asked. Fiyero looked at Glinda.

“Him as well.” Glinda’s voice, though thick with pain, was strong. “He was his closest friend and brother for over two hundred years, and until the end. They should go to their peace together.”

The men nodded. One waved, and a man fetched another shield. The men moved Mikel onto it. They lay their swords across their bodies, folding the hands over their hilts like the last knights of old they were. With that, the men lifted their burdens to their shoulders. Starting a low, slow chant in Arjiki, they began to carry them into Kiamo Ko. The assembled Vinkuns bowed their heads for the warriors who fought and died. The two women followed behind.

In the rear, Fiyero joined in the lament of the fallen. For though Duran’s death brought safety to those he cared about, and a boon to his clan, it was the first death under Fiyero’s leadership as a chieftain. His lament was not only the loss of the man he barely knew, but his own of what remained of his innocence. For though it was the first death he was responsible for he knew it would not be the last. As he sang along with his clansmen, he gave a silent prayer for strength to endure whatever amount of blood on his hands would come.

* * *

As the shield bearers descended into Kiamo Ko’s depths, the women stopped outside the arched door. Carved into it were images and symbols of the Arjiki. Both women knew that only a select few were allowed in the catacombs. Non-Arjiki were never. Fiyero stopped with them.

“Come.” he said. “Let us go and get something to eat. We have a long night ahead of us.”

The two let him lead him to the dining hall.. The idle chatter lowered as they saw the trio enter. As Fiyero took the head table and the women sat with him, an attendant came over. Fiyero thanked him for the glasses of water, and asked for food. He quickly hurried away. The three sat in silence. Both women looked exhausted to Fiyero. Elphaba seemed defeated in a way he had not seen in a long time. Glinda looked...dim. A small-as-life he had never seen in her. Fiyero was thankful when food was placed in front of them.

“Let’s eat and then we can lie down for awhile.” Fiyero urged.

“I don’t want to eat.” Glinda whispered. 

“Glinda, you need food.” Fiyero urged.

“I don’t want food.” she responded fiercely. “I don’t want sleep. I want to find out who made this happen.”

“We will, Glin.” Elphaba soothed. “We just need time and to regain our strength.”

“I don’t want time, or need to regain my strength.” Glidna snapped. “I need someone to answer for this. Someone put Mikel and Durandal on this path. Someone did it by manipulating us; by trying to kill us. And I want to know who.”

“We will.” Fiyero agreed. “Now you have a safe place to work from-”

“I don’t need a safe place. I need answers! I need to know who did this!” Glinda glared at him. Fiyero leaned back.

“Glinda-”

“No pretty words will bring him back, Fiyero. No pretty words will keep us safe. Keep my children safe. Only finding who did this and putting an end to it once and for all.”

“Glinda, we don’t even know who it is.” Elphaba replied.

“We’ll start at the top and work our way down.”Glinda answered. “First we’ll wring it out of the Throne Minister and see where it leads.”

“You can’t just interrogate the Throne Minister, Glinda.” Fiyero replied. 

“And why not? Do you think they can stop me?” she retorted. “I’ll burn down the Emerald City if need be.”

“Glinda breathe.” Elphaba interjected. 

“I’m breathing just fine.”

“Glinda, we need you to stay calm. Not go flying off the handle.” Elphaba finished. Glinda looked at her. The fire in her eyes was still there, but it cooled at the words.

“Yes.” she agreed. “That would not do, would it?”

“No, it would not. We’ll end up in a right mess.”

“Yes, we would.” Glinda took a deep breath. “Okay, we act with patience and prudence. But we don’t let this lie.”

“I promise we won’t, Glinda.” Elphaba reached over and grabbed her hand. The green woman gave it a squeeze, and Glinda squeezed it back with a nod. “But first food and then a nap. We have to honor him tonight.”

“And then tomorrow we go to work.”

“Yes. And then tomorrow we go to work.”

Fiyero gave a sigh of relief. The fury in Glinda was not something he had expected. The fact Elphaba even seemed shocked had startled him. But the green woman had managed to bring her out of it. Seemingly now out of words, the trio finished dinner in silence. As they made their way out of the hall, Fiyero stopped.

“I must go prepare for tonight.” he explained. “It is my duty as chieftain.”

“Thank you, Fiyero.” Glinda said, and placed a hand on his arm. 

“You’re welcome. Get some rest, the both of you. Tomorrow you have a lot of work to start.”

“That we do.” Elphaba agreed. 

* * *

That evening, a line of torches descended from Kiamo Ko. It wound its way through Red Windmill, and eventually to a small clearing overlooking the Kells. The torch bearers were warriors and retainers of the Arjiki. Between them were two shields with the cloth shrouded remains of Duran and Mikel. The shieldbearers were all Fiyero’s personal retainers, including a recovered Gawae. As they entered the clearing, a large pile of wood and straw became visible. The pyre had been built during the day, and liberally doused with lantern oil shortly before their arrival. It would catch quickly and burn hot.

Under the clear sky of a thousand stars, the Arjiki shaman began to chant the last rites of warriors as the two men were reverently placed on the pyre. Soon the entire clearing had begun the chant. Elphaba and Glinda stood alone, strangers consigning a shortly known friend to the fire. 

As the chants continued, Fiyero stepped forward with a torch. His strong voice rang out. Both women knew he was calling on the mens’ ancestors to accept them at their side as both had fallen valiantly in battle. Once finished he turned to the two witches, holding out the torch.

“It is tradition for kin to do so.” Fiyero told them. “He was closest to the two of you.”

“Duran was the sword of witches.” Glinda answered. She raised a hand. “He shall be sent off as such.”

Elphaba nodded and raised her own. She glanced at Glinda.

“Ready?” Elphaba asked

“Yes.”

Fire shot from each of their hands, streaking past Fiyero on either side. There were gasps, soon stolen by the inhale of air as the pyre roared into existence. The heat burned them, causing all to step back. Its light sent spots dancing in front of their eyes. The smell of lamp oil and burning wood mixed with the incense and spices the bodies had been packed with. Pieces popped and crackled as they burned.

As the fire began to settle into a comfortable burn, Glinda began to whisper herself. Elphaba quickly picked up on it, and added her own words.The pair sang in harmony. Glinda seduced the air to come while Elphaba coaxed the flames to grow. Soon, it began to twist and turn. The mourners retreated as far back as they could. Some watched the fire; some watched the witches. 

The pyre grew into a pillar of fire, twisting towards the heavens. Steam rose from the cool ground. The witches did not relent until they watched every last piece of anything turn to ash and drift over the edge to the plains below. Only then did they let the notes of the spells ring in ending. When the fire finally died, the heat was the only thing left to mark the passing of two great warriors. 

With that, the women were asked to tell stories of the pair’s lives so others may be inspired. Glinda started first, recounting the story of their creation. Elphaba joined in later with how they met. Though they had only a few encounters, the two women were natural storytellers and managed to hold their audience captive for the rest of the night. Above them, the stars shone in appreciation.

* * *

Glinda sighed as she left the bathroom. The air was cool in the early fall of the Vinkus. The fluffy blue house robe she wore provided quite a bit in the way of warm against it. As she pulled her drying hair up she caught sight of a letter on her pillow. Walking over, she picked it up and saw the familiar handwriting on it. She opened it.

_ Glinda, _

_ If you’re reading this, I have died. Don’t mourn me too long. A warrior such as myself lives for just causes to fight for. You were the most just cause I had ever known. The short moments we spent together were some of the happiest for me. But this all you know, and more. Keep our travels secret, and when she is ready, let Miss Elphaba know of them. _

_ To the business of the letter. All the belongings I’ve left behind go to you. I’ve no one I really can trust with them otherwise, as some are much too sensitive to those who don’t understand. There’s a little home in the Glikkus District of Shiz that I used as a base of sorts for the last decade or so. That will go to you as well along with everything in it. I’ve enclosed its location. _

_ Finally, I transfer the Dogs of War to you. They will serve as your personal retainers from here on out. You’ve relied on normal staff for much too long, and do need some who are loyal only to you. I also will transfer my list of associates, not full Dogs, to you as well. You’ve met some of them. However, you’ll discover that in Shiz. Otherwise, send a letter to a man named Andre de Phillipe in Frottica. He lives over the Tilted Bucket on High Street. He is one of my captains and will make the necessary arrangements. You will need the code phrase. I will write it at the end, and with that will bid you my fondest farewell. Remember you are strong, my dear Glinda. _

_ Signed, _

_ Durandal Fanel _

_ “To be, or not to be; that is the question; Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer; The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles.” _

Glinda wiped the tears from her eyes. She could hear him speak those words. But he was right; she needed to be strong. That would start first by bringing the Dogs to her. With their protection, she could move on from Kiamo Ko. Despite the healing between the two, Elphaba and her were not together. She was with Fiyero. Glinda accepted that, but would not play third wheel. Sighing, she set herself to the tasks at hand.

Glinda walked over to the room Duran had been using as his. There was not much in there. He had not brought any extra clothes with him on their sprint to Kiamo Ko. He had a few tailored in the little over a month he had been there. 

However, over one sat the purple scarf he had so adored. Glinda ran a finger over it. It was old and worn, but treated with care. She knew it was because it had been from a special person. Otherwise, his hat, his assortment of concealed weapons, a pair of pistols and some ammunition for them was all he had. They had saved his sword and belt from going to the pyre with him. It sat there next to Mikel’s. 

Strangely, there was a third one. Glinda had never seen it before. It was in a rugged leather sheath, more so than the other two. What really stuck out was the form of it. The sheath was wide, denoting a thicker blade, and it had a cross shaped guard. It looked like a sword of cavaliers and knights. Glinda wondered if it had been his when the age of knights reined. There was something about it that made her approach. Made her want to feel it. Glinda reached out a hand…

“Miss Glinda?” came the sweet voice of Sarima. She spun around.

“Yes?”

“What would you care to do with Master Duran’s effects?” 

“How do you know about that?”

Sarima gave her a sad smile.

“He asked me to deliver the letter to you if he should fall in combat.” she responded.

“Why you?” Glinda asked. The smile disappeared and Sarima looked away. “Oh no, Sarima. Don’t tell me you were the one who made Gawae ill?”

“He was so insistent!” Sarima whispered. “And his conviction was hotter than anyone I’ve ever met before. He knew only I could slip the cacepi syrup into his drink in the morning without someone getting suspicious. I still feel so ashamed of myself, but so relieved as well.”

“I won’t say it is okay.” Glinda said after a moment. “But I can say I am relieved as well. I don’t wish to think about what may have happened if he had not fought.”

“Thank you, Miss Glinda.” Sarima dipped her head. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes. Please have Duran’s effects moved to my room.” Glidna answered. Seeing Sarima move towards the strange sword, she hurriedly added. “Except for that. I shall take it myself.” 

Sarima gave her a strange but almost...disappointed look before beginning to move the clothes. Glinda let out a breath she did not know she was holding. Moving towards the sword again, she felt that same odd attraction. Realizing she should check if it was magic, she opened her witch sight. The items held a faint shimmer from having been near him so long. Almost like the scent left after a person has left the bed. However, there were faint other glows. Examining the bag, Glinda found nothing more than a couple of small enchanted things to make travel easier. The sword itself held no glow. 

Reaching out to pick the weapon, she thought she felt it almost throb in her hand. Pulling back, she once again opened her witch sight. Once again, there was nothing. Glinda wove her own magic around it, trying to coax any reaction. There was none. After a few more moments, she let her magical gaze drop and picked it up. 

The weapon seemed to feel warm in her hands. Glinda dismissed it. There was nothing there. She also dismissed the feeling that the walk from his room to hers seemed to stretch far longer than she remembered it should and the whispers she heard from those around her. Or she assumed around her; the staff was good at being inconspicuous today. Entering her room, she placed the sword in a favored corner, and went about collecting her things for travel. 

Her hand paused over two particular items. There was no reason to take them on the trip, but Glinda could not part with them right now. Sighing, she scooped them into her hand and slung her pack across the back. There was little time to waste if she was to travel to Frottica today. Her bubble did not move as fast as Elphaba’s broom. 

She found the green woman walking towards her own room. Elphaba stopped.

“Oh, I was just coming to see how you were.” she said. Glinda smiled.

“Leaving.”

“Leaving?” Elphaba asked, shocked. “Do you think that’s wise? With everything going on, it’s safer here.”

“Yes, but I can’t stand to be here.” Glinda paused. She started moving towards the exit. Elphaba fell into step with her. “There’s too many emotions tied up in this place right now. I think some space will do me good.”

“It’s not because-”

“Yes, to all of it.” Glinda stopped her. “But it will be better soon. I promise.”

“With your pregnancy-”

“I’ll be taking my bubble, don’t worry. The strain will be minimal.”

“Oh.” Elphaba paused. “Where will you go?”

“Home.” Glinda answered. “Frottica home, specifically. Duran left his retainers to me.”

“Well, that will be good at least.” Elphaba paused near the open doors to the courtyard. Glinda did as well. “He did have a knack for planning ahead.”

“That he did.” Glinda forced a sad smile. She reached out and placed something in Elphaba’s hand. The green woman turned it over to see one of Duran’s sending stones. Her’s, specifically. “You should keep this. To remember him by.”

“You know…” Elphaba said as she looked at the stone. “It took a long time for me to trust him. Maybe even up to that last day. But it’s strange to think he’s not around.”

“I know.” Glinda stood on her tiptoes to give Elphaba a peck on the cheek. “I’ll keep in touch.”

“Please let me know you got to Frottica safely.” Elphaba answered. Glinda nodded.

“I will.”

With that the blonde haired woman walked out the door and into the courtyard. A wave of her wand, and her bubble appeared around her. Elphaba watched until it was a speck in the sky and was gone. 


	13. Difficult Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glinda returns to Frottica to let the Dogs of War know of Duran's demise. Elphaba speaks to Fiyero about her relationship with Glinda while on the run.

Glinda elegantly let her bubble dissipate. As usual, she stepped down out of it causing it to disappear with a light pop. A porter was already waiting for her with a smile. Glinda returned it.

“It is nice to see you, Dale.” she said. 

“And you as always, Lady Glinda.” he replied.

“Are my parents home?”

“Yes, and-”

“And someone else.” came the strong female voice from the steps. 

Glinda glanced up to see a woman in trousers, hat, doublet, and a half cape standing there. While most of it was tucked up under said hat, the red hair, pale skin and green eyes were unmistakable. Glinda’s own smile grew as the woman cheerful dipped down the stairs, making sure with a practiced hand that her rapier cleared them. Dale bowed and took his leave into the manor. 

“Wynessa. What surprise!” Glinda replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Fall back plan.” was her response. “After the mansion raid, the Dogs went into prevent mode. Most returned to Mockbeggar Hall to prepare it for an eventual siege. Most likely it won’t happen, but we wanted to secure what belongings of yours we could. Your flat is sealed up; luckily there isn’t really anything of note there. Otherwise, we dispersed to wait to be called. Jonkel is at Mockbeggar while I, and a small contingent, came to Frottica as the next likely choice for your return. Plus, guard your family in case of further reprisals.”

“And have there been?” asked Glinda, suddenly worried. Wynne shook her head.

“Nope! All quiet. Or mostly quiet. Many people have expressed distaste at someone targeting you.”

“That’s good to hear.” Glinda paused. “Did Durandal really put all this into place?”

“Durandal?” Wynne arched an eyebrow.

“It’s Duran’s full name.” Glinda explained. 

“Huh. But no, it was Jonkel. Standard procedures.”

“I see.” Glinda sighed. “I need to send a message to Andre de Phillipe.”

“Who?” Wynne asked. Glinda gave her a quizzical look.

“You don’t know of him?” 

“No. Name doesn’t ring a bell.” 

“Interesting.” Glinda sighed again. “He lives over the Tilted Bucket on High Street.”

“Okay. But why did you say it like you expected me to take it?” 

Glinda steeled herself. 

“Wynne, I have some bad news.” Glinda started. With a deep breath, she continued. “Duran, he was...slain. In battle.”

“What?” the woman blinked. “How? No one could touch him!”

“He met an old comrade, just as talented. He won, but his wounds were too great.” Glidna reached out to touch the swordswoman’s shoulder. “I am sorry.”

“I…” Wynne took a breath. “I...just don’t know what we’ll do now.”

“What I need you to do is to take this letter to Andre de Phillipe.” Glinda answered gently but firm. Twirling her hand, a letter appeared. “As quick as you can.”

“Why me? Why should I play messenger?” Wynne asked, anger creeping into her voice.

“Because Andre is not just some person; he’s one of the Captains of the Dogs of War.” 

“He’s...what?” Wynne’s eyes widened. “Why...why wouldn’t he contact me? Or any of us? They’re staying in Frottica.”

“Because Duran keeps his people separate.” was Glinda’s answer. “Separate groups means if one is compromised the rest are not. Either way, I need you to go as quickly as you can.”

“Yeah. I’ll grab a horse into town right now.” Wynne said and made for the stables. She stopped. “Did...did he tell you what is going to happen to us?”

“Yes.” Glinda replied. “He transferred all of you into my service. Of course, if any don’t wish to-”

“If that is Duran’s wish, it shall be done.” Wynne cut her off. The woman continued onward to the stables. 

Glinda sighed and made her way into the manor. Unsurprisingly, her parents were waiting for her. Her father smiled as she approached. 

“I see my daughter has once again returned to us after running from kidnappers.” he observed amused. “Perhaps this is to become an annual occurrence?”

“Not funny, Popsicle.” Glinda sniffed.

“Quite agree, Highmuster.” Larena added. “But then again, it does seem to be a recurring thing much too often.” 

“Well, I wish I could visit on happier occasions.” Glinda replied.

“Yes. Having your acquaintance show up last month was unexpected.” Larena answered. “I’m not quite sure I’m fond of it.”

“I am quite sure I am not.” Vitorili added definitively.

“It is merely for your own protection.” Glidna soothed.

“We’ve done quite well enough so far.” her father bristled.

“Things have changed, Popsicle.” Glinda glanced around. “But perhaps we can discuss this somewhere else where there are less ears?”

Her parents looked at each other for a moment. Vitorili motioned to a side room. 

“You two adjourn to the sitting room while I tell the staff to be scarce.”

The two Arduenna women waited patiently for Vitorili to return. When he did, he carried a tray with three glasses and a pitcher. Setting it down on the table, he poured each of the women a glass before taking his own.

“So what is it now?” Vitorili asked while he sipped his water. “Another Administration spat?”

“I thought that possibly at the beginning, but now I believe it is something more.”

“More?” her mother leaned forward. Glinda nodded.

“Yes. Several incidents happened that make me think that this is not just about politics. Our path was guided to move us into certain conflicts; conflicts which had we not escaped would either see us dead, or our allies embroiled in war.”

“Who could do that?” Vitorili asked. “It sounds like someone using fortune telling.”

“Yes, it does.” Glinda nodded. “Which could be someone in the Administration, or their employ, but it would require a certain level of skill that is rare.”

“And so why did you return here, darling?” Larena asked. “You let us know when you reached Kiamo Ko safely - which was nice I may add - and that seems to be a safer location than Frottica.”

“One of our associates, Duran -”

“The swordsman?” Vitorili asked.

“Yes, Popsicle, the swordsman.” Glinda huffed. “He traveled with us. He actually got me safely out of the Emerald City and to Kiamo Ko.”

“That’s good to hear, darling, but why do I feel there is more to it?” asked Larena.

“Because, Momsie, there is. Duran had a retinue of...bondspeople, basically. Those who served him as part of his house, and an extensive network of allies. Wynne is one of those.”

“Had?” asked Vitorili.

“Yes, had.” Glinda sighed. “At Kiamo Ko, the Yunamata, an aggressive tribe, challenged Fiyero’s to a duel for a made up sleight of honor. He could not refuse it. The Yunamata used a mercenary that was a superlative swordsman. Duran managed to be chosen to fight him.”

“So he perished in the duel? What did the Arjiki lose?” asked Vitorili.

“He did not lose. Duran was an outstanding swordsman himself. He managed to win, but it cost him his life.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, my dear.” Larena said gently. “You sounded close.”

“We...were.” Glinda sniffed. “Either way, he passed his retainers to me. The person I need to contact is in Frottica. I sent Wynne to go give him the message.”

“I see. All of that sounds terrible, Glinda.” her mother replied. “When do you expect to meet with them?”

“After a nap at the very least.” Glinda replied. She yawned for additional effect. “I am quite tired.”

“Well, your room is still there.” Larena replied with a slight smile.

“Thank you, Momsie.”

“One last thing, Glinda dear.”

“Yes?”

“Have you been stress eating?” 

“Momsie!”

“My darling, I only ask because you seem to have added a bit to your midsection.” Larena looked at her. “Otherwise, you look quite fit and healthy.”

“No...I...ah…” Glinda looked away. Larena raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re with child?”

“Twins, to be exact.” Glinda explained softly.

“And who is the father?” asked Vitorili. “Duran?”

“No!” Glinda huffed. “It’s...well, you won’t believe it.”

“Elphaba?” asked Larena. Glinda squeaked.

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t. But your response made me jump to magic, and then…”

“Yes.” Glinda told them. “Apparently when we combined magic last year to beat Morrible, it did this.”

“So you were pregnant when we were in the City?” asked Vitorili.

“That makes some sense.” Larena nodded. “Does Elphaba know?”

“She does.”

“And how is she taking it?”

“Well enough, I suppose.” Glinda sighed. “We were in the middle of a crisis at the time, so we didn’t talk much about it. And after that another one. And then I left.”

“You’re going to have to discuss it more.” Vitorili cautioned. “You can’t leave it like that.”

“That is all true, but currently she is with Fiyero so I will bring it up when the time is right.” Glinda replied stiffly. Her parents shared a look.

“Okay dear. Well, let us know if you need anything.”

“A nap would do just fine.”

* * *

“Do you have some time to talk?” asked Elphaba.

In his study, Fiyero lifted his head from where he was going over some details about the grain stores for Kiamo Ko. Looking at Elphaba standing in the doorway, he started to smile. As he took in her downward gaze and hunched demeanor, it died on his lips. This was not going to be a happy conversation. He pushed the papers to one side.

“Of course.” Fiyero answered. “I’ve always time for you. Do you want to talk here, or somewhere else?”

“Here...here is fine.” Elphaba replied. 

Stepping in, she shut the door behind her. Though he kept a schooled open face, Fiyero inwardly frowned. Elphaba never shut doors. She did not like to be trapped. If she was shutting it, that meant it was something that she did not want even the slightest chance of being overheard.

“So what do you want to talk about?” asked Fiyero with a warmth and calm he did not feel. But letting Elphaba see his anxiety would not help the conversation.

“Well, it’s about us.” Elphaba started. Fiyero’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. “Well...not us, us, but sort of tangential to us...I mean, not tangential, it does affect us but it’s not between us, but it could be…”

Fiyero let her stammer off into silence. He had learned long ago that interrupting her, or trying to cajole more out of her before she was ready would either make her angry, or send her into a spiral where she would flee. So he waited patiently for her to gather herself and start again.

“There’s something I haven’t told you.” Elphaba paused and looked down. “About when we thought you were dead.”

“I’m listening, Elphaba.” Fiyero answered affectionately.

“Well, we got news that you had died in the Emerald City. Well, not you, but the Scarecrow. And it was from a reliable source, so we thought you were dead. We didn’t know you had been thrown in the dungeon.”

“That makes sense. No way you could have.” Fiyero added supportively.

“And so you see, I was really upset and distraught over it. And so was Glinda.” 

“Completely understandable.” Fiyero agreed. He did not miss the mention of Glinda, however.

“And so, well, we were grieving you. Together. While being on the run with people trying to kill us and hiding together.”

“It must have been a lot to deal with.”

“And we really leaned on each other. Became really close during that time.” Elphaba paused and almost whispered. “ _ Really close. _ ”

“Understandable…” Fiyero felt there was more. Elphaba took a deep breath.

“No...I mean...we started a relationship. A...romantic relationship.” Elphaba paused to see Fiyero’s reaction. The man held the warm accepting look he had throughout the entire meeting but now it also had some confusion. Long moments passed without him saying anything. Elphaba fidgeted, linking and unlinking her fingers. Finally, she could not take it anymore. “Fiyero? Say something.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way towards women.” was his answer. Elphaba huffed.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“No, but it’s the start.” the man replied. His face slowly returned to one of concern. “The next is how long did it last?”

“Are you asking if I cheated on you?” was her reply. “No. It ended when I brought you back in the Emerald City.”

“When you kissed me.” Fiyero’s tone was flat. Elphaba winced.

“Yes.”

“And you broke it off with Glinda shortly after?”

“Well…” Elphaba looked away.

“Oh Elphaba,” Fiyero groaned, “please don’t tell me you never officially broke it off.”

“No, I didn’t.” Elphaba hung her head. “I told myself it was because I was confused at the time; whether I was going to live or die; money and titles and politics; everything that went on. But that wasn’t the truth. I did not want to face it. I wished for an easy out. Either you or her would stop caring for me, or I’d be killed. But none of that happened, and I just made everything worse.”

“I thought your distance in the Emerald City was because it had been so long since I was me. Flesh and blood.” Fiyero admitted. “I never thought it was because of something else. And Glinda hid her pain so well I thought it was just the stress of being Throne Minister again.” 

Fiyero waited for Elphaba to say something. The fact she did not made it even worse.

“And then you left with me.” he continued. “Did you have any talk with her before you left for the Vinkus?”

“No.” Elphaba quietly admitted. Fiyero sighed and ran his hands over his braided hair. 

“So why did you wait to tell me until now?” he asked. Elphaba shrugged. Fiyero was not having it. “No Elphaba, I want to know. Why wait until now?”

“Glinda sort of...yelled at me about it.” Elphaba admitted.

“I can imagine. You’re lucky she travelled with you all the way here.” Fiyero sat back and crossed his arms. 

“I know.”

“Of that I’m sure.” Fiyero sighed again and stood. Elphaba head lifted to follow him. “I’ll need some time to think about this.”

“Fiyero…”

“Elphaba,” Fiyero gently, but firmly, cut her off. “I can’t say you’ve done anything wrong by me. Everything you’ve done makes sense. I can’t fault you for taking a partner after you thought I had died; it makes sense you’d believe it. I can’t fault you for not telling me; we’ve never cared about the others’ partners in the past. I can’t fault you for cheating on me; you stopped your relationship with Glinda the moment I returned. By all accounts, you’ve done right by me. The only fault I can find is how you treated a friend of mine in Glinda. You did cheat on her, Elphaba.”

Elphaba winced but said nothing. Fiyero continued.

“It doesn’t matter that I was actually alive. By choosing to immediately restart a relationship with me without even speaking to her means you did. And what makes it worse is you never came to any closure for her. You ran away from the problem, and used me to do it.”

“I thought you would…”

“Would what, Elphaba?” Fiyero raised his eyebrows. “Not being in a relationship with you if you told me? Would look poorly on you?”

“I...I don’t know.” Elphaba answered. She dropped her head and hugged herself.

“If you truly think that of me, you give me too little credit.” Fiyero let that hang in the air. “But I don’t think you do. Instead, I think you avoided a hard situation by running. And I think you know that too.”

“...Yes.”

Fiyero walked around the desk. He slowly approached Elphaba to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek. The woman closed her eyes and savored the affection. Fiyero placed a hand on her shoulder as he moved away.

“I cannot judge you on this. The Ancestors would know me as a hypocrite with my past. But that does not mean I can ignore it. So I must take some time to myself.”

“I understand, Fiyero.”

“I know you do.” Fiyero walked over to the door and opened it. As he stepped through, he stopped. Without turning around, he asked. “Glinda’s children: whose are they?”

“Mine, so she says. ” Elphaba winced. She turned around to look at him. Fiyero looked back at her, puzzlement over his face.

“Magic?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Fiyero brow furrowed for a moment before it returned to a restful state. He nodded.

“Make sense. At least, as much magic does.”

With that, he walked out and left her standing there.

* * *

Fiyero wandered the halls of Kiamo Ko. He automatically acknowledged the nods of his retainers, and answered questions posed to him. He saw Sarima with a satchel on her back and her oar in her hand. That struck Fiyero as odd. He made his way to her.

“Leaving?” he asked. She saw him and sketched a slight curtsy.

“Yes. With Lady Glinda’s departure yesterday, my services are not needed anymore.” Sarima replied. After a moment she added, “And with no more lessons, there is no more reason to stay.”

“I see.” Fiyero answered. “Will you return to your home now?”

Sarima nodded. 

“Yes. I will go back to serve my people.” 

“What are your duties?” 

“The Hall of Approval has adjourned for winter already, as you know, so I am not needed there.” Sarima shrugged. “I shall probably help the women prepare for the harvest and for the winter.”

“It sounds as if it is an important duty.”

“Every little bit is.” Sarima shrugged again. 

“Stay here for another week.” the words slipped from Fiyero’s mouth. Sarima looked surprised. Fiyero was surprised as well, but did not let it show. A plan was forming. “Let me see if I can find you a teacher. If not Elphaba, from one of the Yunamata.”

“Thank you, Chieftain Kiamo Ko, but that’s not necessary for one such as I.” 

“I know, but you have been a good ally during this time, and it is the least I could do.”

Sarima smiled shyly, and nodded.

“If that is your wish. A week will not hurt my people.”

“Good.” Fiyero nodded. He went to move, but stopped. Checking the corridor, he turned serious eyes back on her. “Did you know?”

“Know?” Sarima furrowed her brow. Unconvincingly to someone like Fiyero.

“Know that Elphaba and Glinda had a relationship.” he clarified quietly. Sarima glanced around.

“There were...rumors. Insinuations. Signs. All before they reached the Garamana, and during their brief stay. But nothing outright confirmed it.”

“Did you think that maybe I should have known?” Fiyero asked. He was immediately ashamed at the anger in his voice. Luckily, Sarima took it for what it was.

“I did not know if it was true or not, and even if so, it was not my place to speak on it.” was her answer. “I am guessing she recently told you.”

“Yes.” Fiyero sighed. “But you are right. It was not your place nor would have helped. It is just...frustrating.”

“A wise king you will be with that head on your shoulders.” Sarima replied. Fiyero laughed.

“Let’s not get a head of ourselves. One step at a time. First, the Yunamata must be brought to heel.”

  
  
  
  



	14. New Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glinda gets to used to the Dogs of War. Elphaba has a meeting with Sarima.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Glinda said to the man sitting across from her. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well.” Andre de Phillipe replied. “I never thought I would get the honor.”

“You flatter me so.” 

“When one is monikered ‘The Good’, I don’t think it is flattery.” 

Glinda smiled. His wordplay and charm were very like the other swordsman and woman she knew. In fact, when Wynne had appeared with the man in tow, she had seen double. 

Like Wynne, he had a cavalier style outfit; though his was much more garish. His wide brimmed hat had a long green feather in it. His half cape was red and gold, while his doublet was blue and gold with a shirt of blue slashed cloth to reveal the green underneath and black gloves. Around his waist there was a belt to hold his rapier, but also scarves of blue, green, and yellow. His trousers were the same blue and green as his shirt but with colors reversed. The only thing normally colored was his high knee boots of brown. There was a marked difference from other Gillikins in his caramel colored skin and black goatee, carefully waxed at the points of his moustache and chin. 

“So what do I owe this honor?” Andre continued. 

“Unfortunately, it is not a happy visit.” Glinda started. “I regret to inform you that Duran Fanel was killed in a duel.”

“That is unfortunate to hear.” Andre nodded. “And I assume that it is yourself that is to inherit the Household?”

“Yes.” Glinda replied.

“And he gave you the signet ring?” 

“Signet ring?” Glinda shook her head. “He gave me nothing but a phrase. To be, or not to be; that is the question; Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer; The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles.”

“Of course there is no signet ring, my lady.” Andre smiled. “Just a small test.”

Andre rose from his seat and took a knee in front of Glinda. 

“I, Andre de Phillipe of the House of Duran, do solemnly swear my life to you, Glinda Arduenna Upland, until death.”

Glinda blinked. Andre coughed and looked at Wynne.

“Really, I don’t think that is-” Glinda tried but Wynne was soon on a knee next to him.

“And I, Wynnessa Starflare of the House of Duran, do solemnly swear my life to you, Glinda Arduenna Upland, until death.”

“I-” Glinda stopped herself. What had she expected? Composing her face, she gave them her best regal look. “I accept your oaths.”

“What is your wish, my lady?” Andre asked.

“Duran told me I needed to rely on loyal retainers. I have a few, but none such as the Dogs.”

“I will see it done.” Andre nodded. “Wynne has a small group under Ronce in Frottica. That will be a good start. However, we also will need to let the Captains of the Household know. They will need to come to give their oaths.”

“How long will that take?” asked Glinda.

“Some time. To get messages to them and to get them to travel could take months.”

“I don’t plan to stick around for that long.” Glinda replied. “While being here is nice, it is still far too close to the City.”

“Where do you plan on going?” asked Wynne. “To Kiamo Ko?”

“No.” Glinda shook her head. “At least, not right now. I need some place that is far enough away from anything to be secure that I can stay at through the winter.”

“There is a household manor in the Pertha Hills.” Andre answered. “It’s far enough away from a railway that travel is difficult, and the hills make going by foot slow. It’s mostly for providing income for the House, but it could easily be made ready for a winter home. And close enough to the Vinkus that winter is more mild than cold.”

“That sounds wonderful. Can you work on getting that ready for me?”

“Of course. I’ll send messengers today. It will probably take a month or so, but between getting some of the local captains together to hear their oaths, and setting out, it should be mostly ready by the time we arrive.”

“That shall do fine. Thank you.”

Andre rose and took off his hat in a bow.

“If that is all, my lady, I will make my way back to Frottica. I’ll pass a message to Ronce to bring his group here. That should suffice in the near term.”

“Thank you again, Andre.”

“My pleasure.” 

He inclined his head towards Wynne and, with a brief flourish of his half-cape, set out. 

“I forgot how quickly things move when you’re around.” Wynne joked.

“I should wish they didn’t. But idle hands are Kumbrica’s playthings.”

* * *

“Momsie?” Glinda asked. Her mother raised her head from the book she was reading. Her daughter was standing in the door to the solarium, bathed in light. Larena approved.

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you think I should reach out to the local nobles and barons? It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. Getting reacquainted with them might be a good idea.”

“I think it is a splendid idea, dear.” Larena nodded. “Was there any in particular you were thinking?”

“The larger barons we could meet in Frottica proper. Have a social event before winter comes in.”

“That would be very enjoyable.”

“As for the locals: I think I would just meet them as I may. I don’t want to pull them away into a big function where they would feel inadequate.”

“Another fine idea.” Larena paused. “Should I have the staff starting making the arrangement?”

“If you could, Momsie.” Glinda suddenly looked tired. “Despite my newfound retainers, they aren’t quite skilled in the ways of society.”

“Yes, I could tell. Mostly skills of war and logistics.” Larena paused. “But that is not all. Your pregnancy is wearing you down.”

“I just become tired quicker.” Glinda pouted. “It’s a bit of a nuisance.”

“I quite remember.” Larena laughed lightly. Glinda scowled playfully at her mother. “Go rest dear, I shall arrange it.”

“Thanks Momsie.”

“Always, dear.”

* * *

“I don’t think you needed to travel with me.” Glinda protested. They were sitting in an open carriage, bumping along the road.

“You’re stuck with us now.” Wynne replied. “Better get used to it.”

“But the entire group?” Glinda huffed. 

“Yes. The entire group.” Wynne laughed. 

Aforementioned group was sitting in the rear and front seats of the carriage Her staff captain, Ronce, was driving the pair of horses. Glinda had been surprised when they had shown up in her full livery. Only Wynne was not; she had on a dress and bodice with her hair in a net to give the look of a noblewoman’s handmaid. Glinda was absolutely certain the parasol she carried hid a sword. 

“I could have traveled faster by bubble.” Glinda repeated from earlier.

“Yes, but if there was trouble no bubble would help you.” Wynne replied.

“I’m a very talented sorceress, you know. I could handle myself.”

“Better safe than sorry. And the less strain on you the better.”

Glinda huffed again. After the revelation of her pregnancy everyone had started treating her like she was made of porcelain. It was as endearing as it was annoying. So now she bumped along a road with an entourage, returning from seeing another country noble. They had been happy at her request for a visit. All the ones she contacted had. And why should they not? Minor enough to be forgotten by any of the larger barons around Frottica proper, a visit from Glinda the Good was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Glinda hoped their good cheer would translate into support as some point.

The path along the road seemed suddenly familiar. A sense of being here before struck Glinda. It took until she saw a large moss covered boulder for her to place it. This was nearby the spot she had met her father last year. Near the Lurlinist shrine. Glinda suddenly felt a pull. Standing up, she startled Wynne. The woman put out her hands to catch her charge should she fall. Glinda did, but forward onto her hands. Leaning further over, she called out to Ronce.

“There should be a path coming up here on the right. Please take it.”

“My lady, that is not on our route.” Ronce protested. “We need all available time to be home by dark.”

“That’s an order, Staff Captain.” Glinda replied warmly. “And do not fear the dark; I have remedies for that.”

Ronce nodded. Glinda sat back. As the carriage turned off onto the little side track, it steered down the path slowly. The “path” was more like consecutive clear spots without trees or shrubs. There were no wheel tracks in the grass and weeds, which pleased Glinda. No one had been here recently; perhaps since they had been here last year. 

The path opened up into the clear grove. At its center was the half-ruined circular colonnade surrounding a pool of clear water that ran off in a little stream next to the large moss covered statue of a smiling Lurline. Glinda went to the bench next to it. Running a hand over it clear the dirt and leaves, she remembered when she had reformed it last year. When she and Elphaba were here. 

Glinda sat. She watched the Dogs finish checking the area and settle into guard spots. They seemed to be filled with a contained but restless energy. How like him was his House. Or how he had been. Glinda leaned back against the column. The day was cool enough. The sky was blue enough. Maybe, like in her past, she could just stare at it for a moment and forget the world existed. Glinda closed her eyes for a moment. It would be nice to relax and release all of her tension from the world, hidden here. 

_ “Durandal?”  _

_ The familiar figure in front of her turned around. He gave her the same smile. _

_ “Miss Glinda.” _

_ “How are you here?” she asked. “I saw you die.” _

_ “That I did.” he answered jovially. “And the fact that I am here really only points to one thing.” _

_ “I’m dreaming.” _

_ “That would make the most sense.” he agreed. Glinda sniffed. _

_ “I wished...but I shouldn’t have. Wishing only wounds the heart.” _

_ The man moved over to her. He lacked some of his usual grace. Glinda supposed her mind could not grant that level onto him. Duran took both of his hands in his and looked into her eyes. _

_ “Wishes may be dreams, but they also are what give us hope. They remind us that there can be better days to come.” _

_ “I wish that could be true.” Glinda gave a small laugh. _

_ “See? Better already.” he smiled. _

_ “I don’t know about that.” Glinda looked away. “I...I don’t know what to do. For the first time since college, I don’t know what I should be doing. I’ve got nothing in the Emerald City. No Elphaba; no Fiyero. I’m just home, like I never left.” _

_ “Give yourself a moment to breathe. It will come to you.” Duran urged. _

_ “I don’t know about that.” _

_ “I do. Remember, you are strong, Glinda.” he stated firmly. “But now, you have to get up.” _

_ “I don’t want to. I like this dream.” _

_ “As do I. I'll always be here if you need me, but you need to get up. Get up, Glinda. Get-” _

“-up.” came a gentle hand on her shoulder. Glinda peeled open her eyes to see flaming red hair in the fading day's light. “We’ve got to go. Most of the trip will be in the dark as is.”

“Sorry.” Glinda mumbled. She slowly stood from the bench. Her body protested. Pregnancy and being thirty had made uncomfortable positions hurt worse. Glinda whispered a pain relief spell, and the aches fled. “Don’t know what came over me.”

“Carrying around your little package probably.” Wynne smiled. “The women gossip about becoming tired easily.”

“Packages.” Glinda absentmindedly corrected her.

“Packages?” Wynne asked. Glinda realized she had not been privy to that information.

“Yes. Twins.”

“Well congrats.” Wynne answered, and gave her a look up and down. “Don’t know where you’ll fit them.”

“Wynessa!”

The woman laughed. The red-gold light made her look glorious. A shade of her mentor. Glinda’s heart pained again. Wynne noticed.

“Something wrong.”

“No...You just reminded me of him.”

Wynne’s face tightened for a moment.

“I see.” she replied. After a moment, she said, “I thought I heard you say his name in your sleep.”

“Yes. I dreamt of him.” Glinda answered. Wynne nodded.

“Yeah. I wish he were here, too.” the woman shook her head. “Strange. I never really saw him much to begin with so it really shouldn’t feel much different. Somehow it does, though.”

“I know what you mean.”

“But we really need to go.” Wynne replied. “Hope you got that solution to the dark.”

“A light ball should do us just fine.” 

“Light ball?”

“Think a glowing orb of sunlight.”

“Ah. That’s handy."

* * *

Sarima walked into Elphaba’s study. In the west most tower, it had actually been a significant climb to get there. But when Elphaba called, one did not complain. Especially since she had been in a mood over the recent week. Sarima had no doubt it was a combination of Glinda leaving and Fiyero finding out about their relationship. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince over the week had seemed more distant as well so that did not help matters. Except it was none of Sarima’s business, and she was determined to stay out of it.

“You asked to see me?” Sarima said. Elphaba jerked up from where she was hunched over some book.

“Yes, I did.” the woman replied. She took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Getting old is terrible.”

“The other option is worse.” Sarima answered. Elphaba blinked, but nodded.

“That is true. Anyway, the reason I called you here is…” Elphaba started but trailed off as she stood. The woman lightly groaned and stretched. By the popping sounds coming from her body, she must have been there for a while. “Sorry. The reason I called you here is because you lack a sorcery teacher.”

“That is true.” Sarima paused. “Are you offering?”

“In a manner, yes.” Elphaba replied. She paused, rethinking her words. “Yes, I am. Or as much as I can. Despite my vaunted title of ‘Wicked Witch of the West’, I’m not nearly as knowledgeable in the nuances of the art as Glinda. And somewhat poorer teacher.”

Elphaba walked over to where a sheaf of papers sat. Picking them up, she rifled through them. After rearranging a few sheets, she walked over to Sarima and held out a hand. Sarima dutifully took the papers. Looking at them, it seemed to be a lesson plan along with sorcery notes.

“I collected all my notes on my education at Shiz, and combined it with what I know now.” Elphaba smiled sheepishly. “I should think that it would be a workable method. Until Glinda...”

Elphaba’s smile died. She looked out the window.

“Until Miss Glinda can pick up my education.” Sarima finished.

“Yes. That.” 

“Thank you, Miss Elphaba. I’m sure studying these notes will be a big help.”

“You are welcome, Miss Sarima.” Elphaba replied. The woman walked around her desk. Putting her glasses on, she looked back up. “One more thing. You will be meeting with me three times a week to practice what you went over.”

“Practice? Against you?” Sarima squeaked.

“Of course. Who else?” Elphaba asked.

“I...I better get to studying these, then.”

“That might be a good idea.”

With that, Sarima quickly retreated. 


	15. Apart Once More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elphaba helps train Sarima while the Vinkun woman helps Fiyero plan for the upcoming meetings of the Chiefs. In Gillikin, Glinda meets the Captains of the Dogs of War.

“Is something on your mind, Miss Elphaba?” Sarima asked. Elphaba glanced over to her. They were in the middle of a magical lesson in the west tower. Sarima was sitting while Elphaba stood near her podium, staring at a book (with her glasses on).

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I asked you how to pronounce this part of the incantation twice and you did not respond.”

“Oh.” Elphaba looked ashamed. “I’m sorry. I guess my mind was elsewhere.”

“Worrying after Miss Glinda?” Sarima asked. Elphaba nodded.

“Yes. She did send me a message she arrived safely, but nothing after that. I sent a message last week to check on her, but got no response.” 

“Perhaps she is busy?”

“Most likely. Knowing Glinda, she is courting the powerful out there to build support.”

“Do you worry it is something else?”

“No.” Elphaba shook her head. “Wynne was with her, and a small contingent of Duran’s retainers. I’m sure she is perfectly safe.”

“So…”

“So I still worry.” Elphaba sighed and took off her glasses. Leaning against her podium, she crossed her arms. “But I can’t exactly pop over there by broom. She would not appreciate that.”

“Do you wish Miss Pfannee to check in on her? That might be more discreet.” Sarima offered. Elphaba’s eyes narrowed.

“How do you know of Pfannee? And more so, how do you know of their connection?”

The Vinkun woman swallowed.

“Miss Glinda did not tell you?”

“She said she was teaching you sorcery. Nothing else.”

“Oh.” 

Silence. 

Then,

“Are you one of Glinda’s Adepts?” Elphaba asked slowly. Sarima nodded.

“Well, not so much that she calls us that but that we do. Glinda always calls us Ladies. But the function is somewhat similar, if less underhanded.”

“Why am I not surprised?” hissed Elphaba. Sarima flushed.

“You act as if you disapprove; why?”

“Why do I disapprove of Glinda using people?” Elphaba growled. “Is that what you are asking?”

“Yes it is.” Sarima retorted curtly. “It’s not as if you don’t.”

“I-that’s not true!”

“Miss Elphaba, save your protestations. Our surroundings are enough to put lie to them.” 

“I’m not using any of them. They are here of their own free will.”

“As are we.” Sarima replied. “We act as retainers to her, yes, but she has given all of us stipends and training with little asked in return. If my people had not called me home, I would have gone to Shiz to study sorcery with the rest of the Ladies. Instead Glinda understood my duty was there. And she even sent me some material to help my studies.”

“It smells too much of Morrible.” Elphaba rebutted. Sarima let out an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, but the world hasn’t exactly been kind to either of you two when you have tried to ignore it. Better to arm oneself.” Sarima paused. “And we did choose for ourselves.”

Elphaba growled but said nothing. The pair stood in silence. Finally, Elphaba looked away.

“How...discrete can Pfannee be?” Elphaba asked quietly. Sarima smiled.

“Unfortunately, Glinda will know you are checking on her in any manner. If I didn’t tell Pfannee so, she would guess. If Pfannee didn’t tell her, Glinda would guess. Best to be upfront about it.”

“But I don’t want her to know I am checking up on her.” Elphaba huffed. “She dislikes when I don’t think she can take care of herself.”

“Which is why you should be upfront.” Sarima replied. The younger woman marveled at giving advice to someone of such renown. It was refreshing to see someone like Elphaba was just like her. “You can check up on someone to show you care without dismissing their own competence. Simply have me write to Pfannee that you have not heard back, and just want to double check everything was alright and if there was anything she needed from Kiamo Ko. She did leave quite a few belongings here.”

“And that will make her think I’m not trivializing her?”

“Miss Glinda will know you are making the effort not to do so, and approve of that effort.”

“Ugh.” Elphaba replied. She sat down and dropped her head to the table. “It’s so much easier flying around throwing fireballs.”

“Of that I am sure. Shall I send the message?”

“Yes, please. And thank you.”

“You are very welcome.”

* * *

“Oh!” cried Shenshen from where she was cuddled against Pfannee in bed. The duo was in Pfannee’s teaching flat in Shiz. “A letter for you, blondie bear. On the nightstand.”

“Thank you, Shenny.” Pfannee replied. The woman gave her lover a kiss on the head. Reaching over, she grabbed the magically mailed letter and opened it. Scanning it, she chuckled before waving her hand to make it burst into a thousand pieces of light and fade away.

“What’s so funny?” Shenshen asked.

“Elphaba asked Sarima to ask me to check on Glinda.”

“Sarima?” Shenshen’s brow furrowed.

“The Vinkun Adept.” Pfannee explained.

“Oh! But what is she doing with Elphaba?”

“She traveled to Kiamo Ko when Glinda summoned her.” 

“And Glinda’s not there now?”

“No. She’s in Frottica with her parents.”

“I see.” Shenshen paused. “Does that mean our visit is over?”

“It does. I’ll drop you off in Wittica on my way to Frottica. I’ll have to make it quick to be back in time to teach class.”

“Well, okay.” Shenshen replied. “I suppose seeing Maxientius a little early won’t be the worst thing.”

“That’s a good thought.”

* * *

Glinda looked up at the rented villa. It was small, but it was close to the town of Frottica. With her meeting with the barons coming up later in the week, Glinda needed to be close by to make sure arrangements went well. Besides, travelling several hours to Frottica the day of would not put her in good form. Especially as she was pregnant. Glinda always wanted to be in her best form.

Over the last couple of weeks she had made time to visit all the small landowners and country barons around her home. She had gotten reacquainted with neighbors and familial relations. There had been many questions on her pregnancy (being far enough along it could not be hidden) but Glinda deftly stated she wanted to keep her private life private. With the insinuation of being her partner was dangerous, most understood. 

As she watched the Dogs spread out through the villa, meeting with the others already there, Glinda noted there was another benefit from being here. The local captains of the Dogs of War had been able to congregate without arousing too much suspicion. Most came with a small retinue of their own, so it would not have done to have several dozen armed men and women showing up to a flat in Frottica. Besides those from her flat in the Emerald City, most seemed to know each other. 

“Wynnessa,” Glinda said to the woman at her side, “please let the captains know I will meet with them in an hour.”

“Yes, Lady Glinda.”

With that, the redhead took off. Another one of the Dogs approached to show Glinda to her room. She thanked him as she was starting to fatigue already. Luckily for her, the room she was led to was on the first floor. It did have a small portico attached so she could look out over the rear of the villa. Being located on a gentle slope, the yard slowly fell away from the house. The back was encircled with a large stone wall with the gardens in the middle. In the center of those gardens was an open courtyard. Glinda thought it perfectly suitable for a small country baron’s estate. It most likely was before it got bought out by the larger one who she rented it from. Sighing, Glinda went back inside to freshen up. She did need to look her best to meet her new retainers.

* * *

Three men and two women stood before Glinda. From where she was sitting, they were not at all what she had expected, but that was probably the point. Standing at her side, Wynne drank in their forms hungrily.

One was her current Staff Captain Ronce. Square of jaw and bearing, the man was dependability personified. Though he lacked some grace, Glinda had begun to feel safe and relaxed in his presence. Another was Andre de Phillipe; still presenting as a cavalier, but in an even more gaudy outfit of orange and red. It made Glinda mildly ill to look at him. By the man’s smile, she guessed that was the intent. The final man was sharply dressed as any noble could hope, except the fabric of his cut was slightly too low of quality. Glinda honed in on him first.

“I am not familiar with you, sir.” Glinda started. “May I ask your name?”

“My name is Emmanuel Caron, My Lady.” he said and bowed at the waist.

“And what do you do besides being a Captain of the Household?”

“I am a tailor, My Lady.” 

“And what is your expertise, Sir Caron?”

“Besides tailoring?” 

“Quite.”

“I gather information.”

“A spymaster.”

“Nothing so dramatic. I merely have ears in the right places.”

“I see.” Glinda turned to the woman standing next to him. “And you, Miss?”

The woman was in a dark long sleeved dress from head to toe with black buttons running up to a high collar. Her sandy blonde hair with streaks of grey was wound in a tight bun and her hands folded over a stout black walking stick. 

“Alicia Balincort. I work as an actuary for both those outside the Household and inside. I am also in charge of the local House children’s schooling.”

“You’re a headmistress?” Glinda blinked. Alicia nodded. 

“Yes. For the younger children I oversee their education. For the older children I oversee their placement and apprenticeship in their future trades.”

“And you Miss?” Glinda asked the other woman. She was tall, nearly half a foot more than Glinda, and had a broad frame under her cream work dress. With her tan skin and light brown hair, Glinda guessed she was of rural Gillikin stock. Her next words confirmed it.

“Emelia O’Fallon, My Lady.” she replied in the rough accent of the upcountry. “To everyone else, I oversee some of the estates in Gillikin. Inside the Household, I teach the future sellswords their business. Been teaching that one there a thing or two, mostly through knocking her on her ass.”

“Hey!” Wynne replied. “That’s not true at all.”

“Don’t be so easily goaded, Wynnessa.” Glinda chided. The younger woman seethed for a moment as Emelia smiled. 

“The Lady knows right of it. Easily goaded is easily led.”

“I see you brought significant numbers of your retinue with you.” Glinda continued. 

“The House does not get a chance to often meet.” Alicia explained. “Often twice a decade, maybe only once. Given the situation, it was decided that we should gather as many as we could.”

“Will the villa accommodate that many, Andre?” Glinda asked. The man nodded.

“Yes. The main house will be able to fit all of the...more senior members comfortably, and the servant’s quarters around the outside perimeter shall work for the younger ones.”

“I’m not so old I can’t bend you over and spank you like the bratty child you are, Andre.” Emelia interjected.

“Be careful Emelia; I may be more than you can handle.” Andre replied with a smirk.

“Shall we place you two far away from each other,” Glinda drawled, leaning to one side of her chair and placing fingers to her lips, “or in the same room?”

The two gaped at Glinda. Emmanuel and Wynne’s giggle did not help the situation.

“What?” Emelia managed to choke out.

“Please. I’ve seen that smirk before on a man.” Glinda replied motioning to Andre,, “And you aren’t hiding those bedroom eyes at all. You’re trying to tell me that you two haven’t bedded each other?”

“Often.” Emmanuel interjected before the other two could, “but they are so stubborn they can’t stay together. Hasn’t stopped them from having four kids.”

“I think we have gotten slightly off topic.” Ronce cut in. “We are here to give Our Lady our allegiance.”

Ronce went to a knee. Shortly after so did the other four. Each bowed their head.

“I, Konrad Ronce-”

“Andre de Philippe.”

“Emmanuel Caron.”

“Alicia Balincort.”

“Emilia O’Fallon.”

“-of the House of Duran, do solemnly swear my life to you, Glinda Arduenna Upland, until death.”

Glinda rose from her seat. As she did, her dress bloomed into one of the finest styles in purple. In her right hand, her white oak staff topped with the glowing crystal grew from her wand. Finally, her head sported the finest curls and a clear cut diadem. The five on their knees breath was stolen and even Wynne, who had seen Glinda do magic before, was in awe. 

“I, Glinda Arduenna Upland, accept your oath, and swear one of my own: I shall never beget you as long as you do not turn from me.”

Glinda held the silence. None of her new retainers spoke. Finally, she did.

“Rise. I wish to meet the rest of the Household.”

* * *

“These accommodations requests are ridiculous.” Fiyero grumbled. “This chieftain wants a three bedroom house. He lives in a tent smaller than this room!”

“Yes, but everyone must keep up with appearances, Chieftain.” Sarima replied. Looking over the sheets in her hand, she continued. “However, not fully acquiescing to his request will also help remind him of his station.” 

“You have a place in mind?”

“The widow Laestra’s guest room.” Sarima replied, handing over the sheet. Fiyero scanned it over. “She could be compensated for it, which she needs the funds, and would carry enough respect that the chieftain would not step out of line.”

“I wouldn’t have to worry about an incident with someone’s daughter.” Fiyero nodded. “You have a knack for this. Better than my own majordomo.”

“Thage Kar is a popular destination during the spring and fall for our traveling kin.” Sarima answered. “I was in charge of finding housing for them. Red Windmill is out of the way enough I don’t suspect you get many visitors.”

“That is true.” Fiyero nodded. Looking down at his list, he continued. “That looks like that is it for today. Did you want to get a head start on tomorrow?”

“No, I have lessons with Elphaba.” Sarima replied. A look flashed over Fiyero’s face before he could stop it.

“Ah yes. I forgot. How do the lessons go?”

“Well. Thank you for arranging them, Chieftain.”

“Please, just call me Fiyero.” he replied. “And no need to thank me. I just gave her a gentle push. Elphaba can be...very focused on things and not see what is going on around her, but she has always been for helping people, particularly other disadvantaged people, grow.”

“She has been a great teacher, if a bit...distant at times.” Sarima ventured. Fiyero nodded.

“Yes, she has been distant lately.” he paused. “Most likely due to everything that has happened.

“Yes. I can see how it would be wearing on someone.” Sarima offered. Fiyero gave her a look.

“Are you trying to imply something, Shaman of Thage Kar?” he asked. The formality caught Sarima off guard.

“No, Chieftain. Just thinking out loud.” Sarima paused. “And I would not call myself a shaman.”

“I’ve no doubt your skill will come along soon enough to be worthy of the title.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. While Elphaba’s instruction is good, they are not of our traditions. So while I may become a good sorcerer, I will not be a shaman.”

“A good point.” Fiyero paused. “Something to look into for the future.”

“I don’t think I shall be here long enough for that to be your problem, Chieftain.”

“Perhaps.” he repleid. “Perhaps not. When the Yunamata are brought to heel there will be other alliances to be made.”

“Are you suggesting the Garamana will be included in that?”

“I am. And when that will be is unknown. You may be here for awhile.” he smiled at her. “Or perhaps a shaman to teach you will be part of the deal. Either way, what the future holds is in motion.”

“That it is.” Sarima nodded. “Though alliances of that sort are usually sealed in blood; either by combat or marriage. The Yunamata was of combat; the Scrow, the Zyma, and others would most likely look towards marriage. Do you have any siblings, Chieftain?”

“Only sisters married away to some of our confederation’s chieftains.” Fiyero replied. 

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be too much of an issue.” Sarima answered. “Especially with Elphaba as the Crown Princess. She will make a terrific one.”

“Perhaps.” Fiyero looked out the window. After a few moments he looked back. “She was never one for titles or positions. Funny since she is the rightful ruler of Munchkinland, and was called the Witch of the West.”

“Fate is a funny thing.”

“That it is. But I’ve kept you long enough. You should hurry to your lesson.”

“Should I tell Elphaba anything for you?” Sarima asked as she turned away. 

“No.” Fiyero shook his head and looked down. “I shall see to anything myself.”

Sarima dipped her head and made her way out of the room.


	16. New Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elphaba gets for help from unlikely sources, and Glinda gets to relax some.

“Miss Pfannee!” Glinda said from the steps of the manor as she saw a certain blonde approach. The Dogs had told her that someone had been dropped off at the end of the drive. Pfanee’s outfit was of a typical working class woman: thick dress and apron with a cloth over her hair and a large satchel slung over a shoulder. If not for her witchsight that belied her demure appearance, Glinda might not have recognized her. “I did not expect you.”

“I know.” she smiled. The blonde looked around. “I’m lucky that I heard you had rented this villa. I was already booking a cab to your parents’. This is closer, and so cheaper.”

“You did not have to pay on your own.” Glinda protested as the other woman made it to the steps. “I would have if you had known you were coming.”

“Yes, but then how would I have surprised you?” Pfannew replied with a slight twinkle in her eyes. “Besides, it helped me practice. Can’t get rusty, you know.”

“Do I know you?” asked Wynne from Glinda’s side. The woman was giving the woman a fierce stare.

“Last time we met I was shooting fireballs at you.” Pfannee paused. “So no. I work for Glinda now.”

“First I heard of it.” Wynne rebutted petuntaly.

“Wynessa, you don’t know everyone in my employ.” Glinda kindly, but firmly, chastised. “Miss Pfannee is an old friend from school, and currently has been overseeing my- Oz’s interest at Shiz. She took over for the sorcery teacher there.”

“Hmm.” was Wynne’s reply. Pfannee’s look went from demure to flinted in a moment.

“Is this going to be a problem?” she asked. There was no mistaking in the edge in her voice.

“Only if Glinda says there is.” Wynne replied in the same tone.

“I say there is not.” Glinda interjected. “And that is that. Really, you two.”

“Hmm.” Wynne replied again.

“Hmm.” Pfannee echoed. 

“Wynnessa, Pfannee and I have something to discuss.” Glinda once again interjected. “Please see to your duties.”

Wynne cast one last suspicious look in Pfannee’s direction, then she turned and walked away. Pfannee watched the woman’s back as she disappeared inside.

“I like her.” Pfannee concluded. “Smart, skilled, and protective.”

“”Well, that's a relief.” Glinda sighed. “Now come, we shall take a sitting room. Standing here is not the place for whatever the reason of your visit.”

* * *

“To what  _ do _ I owe this visit, Pfannee?” asked Glinda. The two women had taken a side room and Glinda had used the silencing charm crystals to proof it against eavesdroppers.

“Elphaba asked me to check on you.” Pfannee answered bluntly. 

“ _ Elphaba _ asked  _ you _ ?” Glinda could not keep the incredulity out of her voice.

“Well, not exactly.” Pfannee smiled. “Elphaba griped to Sarima about you not answering a letter she sent a couple of weeks ago, but that she couldn’t come check on you herself as she didn’t want you to think she thought you couldn’t take care of yourself.”

“So she asked Sarima to ask you?”

“Sarima offered. Apparently Elphaba did not know she was an Ade-Lady,” Pfannee changed the word at Glinda’s pinched nose, “of yours. So Sarima suggested she could ask me to check on you so as to come off caring rather than overbearing.”

“But you told me all of this because you’re one of my Ladies?” Glinda asked calmly. Pfannee shook her head.

“No. Sarima knew you’d instantly know what was going on no matter how nonchalantly I dropped by. She suggested that Elphaba just be upfront about it and she agreed. So Sarima asked me and I am here.”

“To show she cares about me, but doesn’t think I can’t take care of myself.” Glinda summarized sarcastically.

“Partially. And partially because I’ve not heard from you in weeks either.” Pfannee paused, then said, “It makes me nervous that you’re so exposed out here. At least one of us should be here for magical protection.”

“You don’t think I can take care of myself?” Glinda raised a delicate eyebrow. Pfannee sighed.

“I know you can...I’m just paranoid. Trained that way.”

“Well, thank you.” Glinda smiled. “But between the Dogs and myself, I am well protected.”

“Dogs?” Pfannee asked. Glinda’s smile turned bashful.

“Yes, my new retainers. They call themselves the Dogs of War.”

“Interesting name.”

“It is quite unique.” 

The two women were in silence. The flow of the conversation had stopped. Glinda did not know if there was more Pfannee wanted to say. Pfannee was not used to not being dismissed. Finally, Glinda broke it.

“Come, tell me about your summer.”

“I probably should get going if I want to be back in time for class.” 

“Please stay for just a bit longer. I’m afraid I’ve not had a chance to catch up with you in the last few months.” Glinda asked. The sincere look on her face convinced Pfannee.

“If you insist. I’ve not written to you recently either.” Pfannee glanced down. “And someone’s been busy.”

“Yes. I was not particularly open about it.” Glinda sighed. “Nor did I intend to be.”

Glinda walked over to a small couch and sat. Pfannee followed. When the woman remained standing, Glinda patted the place next to her.

“Come sit. You travelled far and I’m sure getting off your feet would help.”

“I’m used to it, teaching and all.” Pfannee grinned as she sat down. “You just want to sit due to your pregnancy.” 

“Oh, boo on your perceptiveness.” Glinda mockingly chided. “I do want to catch up.”

“It’s fine, Glinda. I remember Shenshen’s pregnancy.”

“Was it difficult for her?” 

“No.” Pfannee shook her head. “She was the same up to and after giving birth. Never lost or gained appetite or energy.”

“That’s tremendously unfair.” Glinda pouted.

“So I was told.” Pfannee chuckled. Seeing Glinda shift, Pfannee blinked. Remembering something, she grabbed a pillow and stuffed it behind Glinda. “Relax. I know sitting up in a perfect polite position cannot be easy.”

“Uh. But it’s so uncivilized.” Glinda remarked, but did lounge further back. She sighed in contentment. “But that is better. Now, tell me about the summer, and how teaching is going.”

* * *

It was late in the day and Elphaba had laid down in a side room off the tower. It was one she had used when she had fled to Kiamo Ko originally. While she would eventually rise and go to the bed she shared with Fiyero, often she found it easier to catch quick rest here. That had sometimes led her to accidentally sleeping through the night, but Fiyero had been accepting of it. Elphaba did not want to admit it, but her rests here had become more frequent. A knock at the door welcomely interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in.” she called as she sat up. Sarima entered the room, letter in hand.

“News from Frottica.” the other woman said. 

“Oh. That was faster than I expected.” Elphaba blinked. Sarima smiled.

“Trains, remember? It was less than a day’s travel.”

“Oh, right.” Elphaba nodded. “So what's the news?”

“Glinda is doing well.” Sarima answered, looking at the letter. “Pfannee was shocked at her pregnancy. Apparently nobody told her. Oops. She has moved from her parents’ estate and to a smaller one nearer town. As you suspected, she has been shoring up her support and will be meeting with the larger barons soon to continue to do so. She has new retainers - the Dogs of War, whomever they are - and Pfannee says they are quite fierce. She knows one, a redhead sellsword named Wynne who seems quite devoted to Glinda. She said you knew her?”

“Yes. She traveled with us when we fled the Emerald City last year.” Elphaba explained. “She was a retainer to Duran - whose retainers call themselves the Dogs of War - and has now been transferred into Glinda’s service.”

“Ah. Pfannee does say she has a considerable retinue of plain looking but obviously professional people with her. All in all, Pfannee says she is safe and secure, if a bit grumpy because of the pregnancy.”

“I can imagine.” Elphaba nodded. “Thank you, Sarima. It means...it means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Elphaba.” the other woman smiled. “I’ll take my leave so you can rest.”

Elphaba nodded and the other woman left. Lying back down, she closed her eyes. That was one worry off her mind.

* * *

The moon was high when Glinda woke. After Pfanne had left she had been worn out and quickly went to bed. Maneuvering to her feet she sighed. Being nearly six months along meant having to rise more often. Luckily, the bathroom nearby was quite luxurious. Glinda inwardly was thankful it was not as cold or hard as Kiamo Ko’s were. She could not hold it against the place as it was a castle, but she could be thankful to be here instead. 

After relieving herself, she made her way back to bed. However, the flicker of fire light off her window made her curious. Wynne had told her that the Dogs would be having a celebration tonight. The Household rarely met, and when they did tended to revel together. Glinda could understand that. Plus, she thought it was adorable when Wynne suggested she use the noise cancelling spell for her room so as not to be disturbed. Glinda had smiled and let her know that she would. For their sake.

But now she was curious. How did her new retainers relax? Glinda’s curiosity got the better of her. Floating over to the double doors that led to the portico, she pushed aside the curtain just enough to peek out. Glinda could see the light of a central fire, and several other smaller fires around it, but the glass distorted any clearer images. As far she could tell, the shapes that moved could either be shadows or people. Chiding herself as being a timid school girl, Glinda found her camisole and slippers. If she wanted to see she would see. 

The noise assaulted her the moment she opened the portico doors. The upbeat tune of music playing almost drowned out the conversation and laughter. Without the glass to interfere, the shadows that danced were revealed to be people actually dancing around the fire. Glinda whispered the traveling spell to make her footsteps lighter. One more spell, devised in her spare time at Kiamo Ko, made the shadows wrap around her. It would not obscure her from sight; just make her harder to see.

Glinda set her sights on one particular person. She knew that she would be nearer the portico. Her pride would not let her stray too far from Glinda’s side. And there she was, her red hair dancing like the flames that gave off the light. What took Glinda a moment to realize was that she was bare shouldered. Glancing further down, she realized it was not just the shoulders. The woman was bare to her waist where her shirt idly hung. Glinda blushed and looked away. Perhaps she was intruding. Wynne was prolific. 

Looking at the other Dog did nothing to help her situation. The man, who was closer to the fires, was stripped to the waist as well. Glinda’s gaze was drawn past him now. The other Dogs’ bare skin glinted with the rosy hue of camplight. Some were standing around talking like Wynne. Others danced near the fires, their bodies moving to the rhythm of the music. Some danced very close, making Glinda’s blush fiercer. 

“See something you like?” came the soft voice in her ear. Glinda jumped. Wynne’s smiling face was very near, and so was the rest of her. Glinda realized she must have walked forward without thinking.

“I did not mean to intrude.” was Glinda’s soft response.

“And you did a good job of it.” Wynne smiled. “You scared me half to death. One moment I was turning down Constans and watching him walk away, and the next you were beside me. Almost like magic.”

Wynne winked at her. Glinda gave a small snort of amusement. Looking down, she saw the bare chest of Wynne again and her cheeks burned. Wynne noticed, and easily slipped her arms back into her shirt. The deep cut still showed a lot of skin, but it covered the important parts. 

“Is the whole House as prolific as he was?” asked Glinda rhetorically. Wynne shrugged and looked over at the rest of the Dogs.

“Maybe it’s the lifestyle. Maybe he rubbed off on us some.” she replied wistfully. 

Glinda glanced over. The woman’s smile, always so roguish, now held a small bit of uncertainty. The blonde realized the redhead must have felt unsure for her future for the first time in years. Duran was gone, the one constant in life. Though Glinda had taken his place, Wynne did not know what that meant yet. None of them did. Glinda got the overwhelming feeling of not belonging, and turned to leave.

“As I said, I do not wish to intrude. I shall let the House return to their festivities.”

“We are yours. How could you intrude?” asked Wynne. Glinda stopped. That was true. Looking back at the Dogs, she wondered out loud,

“Why are you stripped to the waist?”

“House tradition.” Wynne shrugged.

“If I may, My Lady.” came a voice from her right. Glinda turned. 

Her Staff Captain, Ronce, was there, though he had brought his own shirt back up as well. Still, Glinda took the time to admire the man’s unhidden physique for the first time. He was of broad shoulders and chest with a waist that was not slim but not fat either. His arms were hard of the corded muscle that came from repetitive work. Further down, the tight breeches he wore let Glinda see he had strong legs (and a nicely shaped rear). Topped off with the strong jaw, brown eyes, and short hair, he was a nice looking middle aged man. 

“I do not think this is the place to stand on formality, Ronce.”

“The reason the House strips to the waist is because the House is all equal.” 

Glinda raised her eyebrows.

“I’m going to need that explained for me.”

“If a man strips his shirt because he is warm, no one considers it taboo. But a woman…”

“A woman is seen as a harlot.” Glinda replied. Ronce nodded.

“Yes. And in the House there is equality between the men and women. So, at one such event long ago, it was decreed if a man could take off his shirt, so could a woman.” Ronce stopped and gave her a smile. “Among other things.”

“So prolific.” Glinda giggled. She saw some of those not dancing become aware of her presence. “But I wonder if I do not make you uneasy.”

“You are new.” Ronce shrugged. “Wynne herself was approached with some hesitation when she was accepted into the House. But after a little bit of time they will get used to you.”

“If the both of you wish to strip your shirts, you may.” Glinda slightly switched topics. “Don’t abstain on my account.”

“I figured it would make you more comfortable.” Wynne shrugged.

“I’ve seen quite a bit of you already, Wynne, and vice versa.” Glinda replied. Wynne chuckled. The redhead slipped her arms out of her shirt and let it slip to her waist.

“I will say that is really liberating to do.” she said, and stretched her arms over her head. Ronce snorted and Glinda rolled her eyes at the obvious ploy. As Wynne dropped her arms, Glinda’s eyes went to the angry scar on her left shoulder. Her hand went forward. Wynne froze for a moment before realizing where she was going. “Ah yes, my newest acquisition. Lovely little wound there.”

“Less than a year ago. You’re recovering well? Sometimes old wounds linger.” Glinda asked as she ran her fingers over it. It was still raised.

“Quite well. Duran stopped by not too long afterwards and gave me a little alchemical boost before he made his way to the City.” Wynne replied. She flexed her arm and shoulder. “Good as new.”

“That is good to hear.” Glinda answered. Her well honed sense from the ballrooms told her a group was approaching. A trio of women, all around her age or so. As they were starting to slip on their own tops, Glinda held up a hand. “No need, ladies. If you wish to go bare chested, it is not an issue.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” the lead one said. Her name was Camilia. A Gillikin brunette, she was a healthy but curvy woman of her age. Her body did not have the tightness of early adulthood, but instead was strong with an overlay of softness from prosperity. Glinda did not think she looked worse for it. The other two women, Josephine and Rosaline, were also of good Gillikin stock, though Rosaline's slightly tanned skinned told Glinda of some Vinkun mix. 

“What can I do for you?” 

“We were wondering if we woke you?” Josephine asked.

“No. I had to get up to use the facilities and was curious about the light."

"I hope you don't find it uncouth." Rosaline ventured. 

"No, especially after the explanation. Many different peoples have different traditions. My sensibilities are not hewed to traditional Gillikin's."

"That's good to hear, My Lady." Josephine answered.

"Will you be joining us then, My Lady?" asked Rosaline. The other two gave her surprised looks. The schooled interested expression on Rosaline's face betrayed the woman.

"Scrow? Glinda asked. Rosaline's face broke into a bashful smile as she nodded.

"How did you know?"

"It's too far for any other tribe, and you asked a leading question."

"I may have heard some tales about your travels with the Night Witch."

"One of your Household duties?"

"Yes. I tend to filter the rumors and sorts from the Vinkus to the Gillikin Captains."

"Makes sense."

"I'm lost." said Wynne.

"I am as well." added Ronce.

"Last year Elphaba and I travelled through the Vinkus on our way to Kiamo Ko." Glinda started.

"That was after the Opera House incident, right?" Wynne asked. Glinda nodded.

"Yes, after a brief stay in Frottica...which all of you know about." Glinda realized. They all nodded, except for Wynne who took a moment. "Anyway, we stopped by some tribes on the way there. The Scrow were the first, and after an interview with their leader, they had a welcome party. Which can get a little... interesting."

"I can imagine." Wynne nodded. Rosaline scowled.

"Nothing such as that." she interjected. "Well, at least when not at harvest time. But the rumors did say the Night and Day Witches partook of the dancing and revelry."

"Night and Day Witches?" Ronce cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm guessing Elphaba is the Night Witch." Wynne answered.

"Who is?" asked Josephine.

"The Witch formerly known as Wicked Witch of the West." Glinda answered. "Though they called us Shamans, not Witches."

"Vinkuns don't have a word for witch, so I translated it." Rosaline replied. "But will you join us tonight?"

"I shouldn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. And I'm a bit too tired to dance. I feel fatigued standing here already."

"That's the babies, dear. I remember those days." Camila said. "Wynne, be a dear and get Our Lady a seat. With a cushion."

"Oh no-"

"On my way, ma'am." Wynne tossed Camila a casual salute and hurried away. Glinda looked at Camila.

“Well, if it won’t make anyone uncomfortable,” Glinda started, “I think I shall stay. It would be good to relax a bit, and get the House to relax around me.”

“As long as you’re not uncomfortable.” Josephine replied. “You may be accepting of other traditions, but that doesn’t mean you’re comfortable with them.”

Glinda's response was to look at her for a moment before slipping her own camisole off her shoulders. The women blinked and Rosaline’s mouth even gaped a little bit. Glinda finished by tying it loosely around her waist. The night air was cool, but the gentle heat from the fire on her chest was soothing in an unexpected way. Wynne returned then, holding a chair in one hand and a cushion in the other. 

“Staying awhile then, Glinda?” she smiled. The woman placed the chair near her and the cushion on top. With a thankful sigh, Glinda took it. 

“Yes. I think I will if you’ll have me.” was her reply.

“Definitely.” Wynne answered. After a moment she said, “Though it is unfair.”

“What is?” Glinda asked, knowing the shape of what the next comment would be.

“That you’ve gotten even more gorgeous since the last time I saw you.”

“Wynne!” scolded Camila. “That's a highly inappropriate thing to say to Our Lady.”

“It is alright, Camila.” Glinda assured. “Wynne already knows what she can get away with.”

“That I do. And I am happy where I am.” was the redhead’s reply. 

“Though they've gotten so heavy now. I have to stretch every morning just to relieve my back.” Glinda continued, and stretched backwards over the chair. Wynne’s mouth did gape open. Glinda resumed her position.

“That’s part of being pregnant as well.” Josephine added. “Konrad could not keep his hand off me when I was. Speaking of which, I need to steal my husband away. He is far too distracted and I am in need of my own attention tonight.”

“With your leave, My Lady?” asked Ronce. Glinda nodded.

“Go. Enjoy yourselves.” 

The duo left. Glinda looked at the remaining three women. 

“Please don’t stay on my account.” she said. “Go back to the revelry. I’m sure there are friends you miss.”

Camila and Rosaline looked at each other.

“I’ll stay here in case she needs something.” Wynne answered. “Besides, I have a feeling a lot more of the House will be paying their respects.”

Glinda had noticed too. The House members were trying to idly line up for her attention. Not that she minded, but at the same time she did not want to be seen as holding court.

“You can let them know they can come and socialize with me. I’m not here to sit in judgement or for their respects. Just tired.” Glinda frowned. “Though I may need to scoot closer to the fire.”

“Let me help.” Camila said. She offered a hand to Glinda and the woman took it. She was not so big she had difficulty getting out of her seat, but it was still helpful. Wynne grabbed the chair and Rosaline the cushion. Moving it closer, Glinda sat. 

“Now go on. I’m going to sit here and enjoy the warmth of the fire, and the exuberance of the House.” Glinda told them. “And tell them to come on by.”

“Yes, My Lady.” Camila bowed slightly. So did Rosaline.

“May I add, My Lady,” Rosaline continued, a slight blush on her cheeks, “the stories of your beauty do not do you justice.”

“Such prolific a House!” Glinda said amused as the woman hurried away before she could respond.

“Would you want it any other way?” Wynne asked, looking down at her.

“No.” Glinda shook her head. Looking up, Glinda half closed her eyes, arched her back and put some smoke into her voice. “How about you, Wynnessa?”

“I...You know you’re absolutely terrible.” Wynne replied. “I know you’re not serious.”

“But if I was?” Glinda traced her tongue over her own lips. “What then?”

“Then I would be reciting all the unionist catechisms I was taught to maintain composure.” Wynne looked up. “I’m halfway there now. You’re an outrageous tease.”

“I know.” Glinda giggled. Sighing, she watched the first and most daring approach. “But it’s been so long since I could tease anyone.”

“Yeah, well, keep it up and half the House will die of a heart attack.”

“That would not do.”

“No it would not.”

“I’ve not really got to...know any of you yet.”

“Glinda!”

Glinda giggled. She was having so much fun.


End file.
